


I've Grown Familiar With Villains That Live In My Head

by SlightlyTwistedSilverware, WelshWitch1011



Series: 'A Chrismukkah Carol' Fic Verse [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Deaths, Christmas Fic Verse, F/M, Inhumans - Freeform, Mentions of past abuse, Romance, Skye/Lincoln Friendship, Skyeward - Freeform, Skyeward as parents, Songfic, Supernatural - Freeform, Violence, Ward is Hellfire, Ward redeemed, gentle smut, halloween fic, quakefire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-15 19:59:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyTwistedSilverware/pseuds/SlightlyTwistedSilverware, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: They are not real. The voices, the whispers, the cold hands that brush her clammy skin - they are not really there. This is not a ghost story. Or is it?Halloween fic. within the same verse as 'A Chrismukkah Carol'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is guys, our new Halloween fic. It'll be posted in 4 parts - although if we ramble it may end up 5 or 6.  
> We hope you like it!
> 
> This fic is set in the same verse as our fic 'A Chrismukkah Carol'.

**“I’ve Grown Familiar with Villains that Live in my Head”**

**One**

**x-x-x**

Circling his opponent, he kept his eyes trained on the lithe figure facing him down, a look of steely determination present on her face. Her hands rested at her sides, fingers twitching ever so slightly as she anticipated him being the one to make the first move, but he didn’t; he remained still, staring at her, trying to lull her into a false sense of security. Undoubtedly, she knew how dangerous he was, and he was enjoying watching her struggling to keep her expression locked down. She seemed determined to give nothing away to him through her eyes or the twist of her lips, and he could only approve of such thinking. She was going to make a worthy adversary.

“Just hit her already!” a voice called out from the side lines, laced with obvious boredom and frustration.

Ward felt his jaw tighten in a reflection of the annoyance that coursed through him at the interruption, and he turned his head to reprimand his most unruly student.

“Cole, you want to take her place?” Ward challenged, pausing to shoot Skye an apologetic smile. Her defensive stance immediately relaxed as she waited for Grant to be done with chiding the recruit, who seemed to be the bane of his existence these days.

Cole Emerson was cocky, self-assured, wealthy, and the son of two senior agents, which seemed to do very little for his humility during training. The kid appeared to have made it his mission in life to get underneath Ward’s skin – to push the boundaries to breaking point until the older, more experienced agent was on the verge of snapping completely. Skye directed a glance at her husband, noting how the vein in his neck was beginning to throb, and she barely managed to resist the urge to manipulate the floor beneath Emerson’s feet and send him sprawling on his back. He would have deserved it but the behaviour would only serve to undermine Ward in front of his class, and Skye would never willingly do that.

Skye had been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for just over seven years and, despite her role as the leader of the Secret Warriors and the Inhuman powers that had been awakened in her, her self-assuredness was still somewhat below that of their latest recruit. Five months into the academy and Cole fancied himself only somewhere vaguely below the director.

Cocking his head, Ward folded his arms across his chest and regarded their upstart trainee.

“If you think hand-to-hand combat is about ‘hitting’ your opponent, you’re gonna last all of five minutes out in the field. You have to read their body language, anticipate their next move, psych them out. It’s all about control. Because whilst you’re thinking about nothing but getting a punch in, she’ll have you dropped on your ass.”

Cole scoffed and leaned back on his palms against the crash mats, “She doesn’t look that big.”

Ward smiled, looking his wife up and down with a wink he directed solely at her, before he put what she labelled as his ‘hate face’ back in place and regarded the younger man with amusement.

“Lesson number two; never underestimate your opponent. Agent Johnson is one of our most skilled operatives. She was trained by the best.”

Cole narrowed his eyes with interest as he demanded, “Oh yeah, and who was that?”

Without missing a beat, Ward shot him a predatory glare. “Me.”

Cole did his best not to shrink back from Ward’s disapproval but Skye could see the faint glimmer of fear in his eyes. Perhaps, she reasoned, the kid wasn’t so stupid after all. There wasn’t an agent within the newly rebuilt S.H.I.E.L.D. that didn’t have a healthy dose of respect for Grant Ward’s abilities as a Specialist, and with good reason too. Since he had been reinstated as an agent by Coulson all those years ago, rather than handed over to his brother as had been the original plan, Ward had damn near killed himself trying to prove his loyalty to both the organisation and his team. The number of missions he had succeeded in ranged in the hundreds, whilst those he had failed at could be counted on the fingers of one hand. He was truly the best they had to offer, and so Coulson had insisted that he turn his hand to imparting his wisdom, training, and technique to the next generation of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Skye was immeasurably proud of him, whilst Ward himself thought it an odd punishment. He still didn’t do well with people, with the obvious exception of the small number of agents he had come to look upon as family.

“Shall we get started?” Ward asked, tipping his head as he regarded Skye again, redirecting her wandering thoughts. She flashed him a smile and then nodded her head once, no verbal response necessary. These days they could say so much to each other with just a glance.

The two circled the mats for a few moments, each wearing a provocative smile that melted away as they began their display.

Their bodies moved as if in synch; they anticipated the other’s movements whilst a flurry of punches and kicks were exchanged, not one blow actually managing to connect properly. They lunged at each other, grabbed, and rolled, their bodies pressed together in a desperate grapple one second and then flung far apart the next.

Cole watched them interestedly, although his attention was captured more by the curvaceous figure Skye cut in her sports gear rather than taking an interest in picking up any tips that may actually prove useful.

“Nice,” he smirked, biting his lip and nodding in approval as Skye threw Ward down onto the mat, her thighs hugging his hips. A split second later she was on her back with Ward’s imposing figure pinning her. However, again she forced him off and they rolled around the ground, each momentarily able to claim a small victory. The flurry of grunts and cries they released betrayed the obvious sport they took in such activities.

“Is anybody else turned on right now?” Cole quipped, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as the couple climbed to their feet amidst a display of seemingly violent blows. Of course, neither would dream of hurting the other and, although the recruits wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, their moves were controlled and choreographed.

Leaning in closer to her classmate, a young, brunette agent watched them with fascination, her mouth half open yet also half twisted into a smile.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Clearly they have one _hell_ of a time in the sack.”

Frowning in confusion, Cole regarded her for a moment. He hadn’t taken the time to research the instructors, beyond seeing the name ‘Grant Ward’ on his timetable and secretly feeling a stab of trepidation in his gut.

“You didn’t know?” the girl laughed, peering askance at her colleague as though he was stupid, “they’re married.”

Pulling his lips into an appraising line, Cole swept his gaze over Skye, “Huh. Good for him.”

Snorting in amusement, the brunette kept her eyes trained on Ward. She prided herself on being fairly perceptive and she had already sussed that the supposedly ruthless agent was taking great care not to let any of his punches come close to landing on his wife. But, terrifying reputation or not, Grant Ward was undeniably handsome.

“ _Good for her_ ,” she drawled dreamily, suspecting displays like this were akin to foreplay for the S.H.I.E.L.D. power couple.

When it finally seemed as though Ward would be victorious, having Skye pinned down to the mat with his forearm across her neck, he turned to survey the students. Taking an invisible cue, Skye stopped struggling and lay still.

“Lesson number three,” Ward said, a smirk twitching at his lips as he ran his eyes over the assembled crowd of students, who now suddenly seemed to be hanging on his every word. “Even when it seems like you’ve got the upper hand, don’t assume you’ve won until your opponent is unconscious or… something more permanent.”

He barely had time to turn back to Skye when she flung her right-hand forwards, sending a shockwave of energy from her palm that lifted Ward clear off his feet. He had obviously prepared for such a move, and he kept his head down, chin on chest, as his body slammed into the opposing wall.

A collective gasp rose up from the students and several started forwards with great hesitation, uncertain as to whether they should go to their instructor and help him pick himself up off the floor. He had landed in a tangle of limbs, but he appeared uninjured as he clambered to his feet, intercepting the cheeky grin his wife directed at him.

“Oh my God,” another student hissed, “it’s her… she’s Quake.”

“Remember, kids,” Skye drawled, enjoying the looks of awe directed at her from the students, “you never know what tricks the enemy has up their sleeve.”

Arriving back at his wife’s side, arrogant swagger firmly in place, Ward surveyed his students with a smirk as Skye added, “Or at their fingertips.”

He clicked his fingers and a flame shot up from his skin, flickering at the top of his thumb and lingering there until Skye gently curled her hand around his then leaned down to blow it out. The couple locked eyes for a moment and a jolt of desire sparked between them that could be described as palpable.

Husband and wife smirked at each other as they listened to the whispers rising around them, which ranged from the baser exclamations of ‘holy shit’ to fangirling cries of ‘Hellfire and Quake’. They allowed the class a minute to calm down and then waited with pointed looks in place until silence fell around them.

Nodding towards the door, Ward glanced at them all expectantly. “We’ll pick this up next time. You’re free to go.”

Watching the recruits all bustle past, some still shooting backwards glances at the infamous couple, Skye grinned and took a step closer to her husband. Six years together had done very little to quell their passion and the chemistry that sparked between them. Though their relationship had taken work in the beginning in the wake of Ward’s betrayal of the team, it was evident that not only were the couple entirely crazy about each other, but they were also incredibly devoted. They loved each other deeply, and Skye couldn’t imagine her life having turned out any other way. Ward, however, still could, and his gratitude for the life he lived at Skye’s side was something that would never fade.

Smiling up at him as he slid his arms around her waist, Skye eagerly accepted Grant’s kiss. Their lips moved hungrily against each other as adrenaline surged through their veins.

“I love your big, bad S.O. voice,” she teased as they drew apart, “I mean, I like it better now it’s not making me do push-ups at 6 am.”

Pondering the lustful stares of some of the new female recruits, she added, “I think a few of your students are pretty excited by it too.”

Ward laughed, rolling his eyes as he replied, “You know I’m more concerned with the arrogant little punk in the front row.”

Wrinkling her nose, Skye arched an eyebrow in agreement, “Don’t worry, baby, I’m sure you’ll break him in.”

“Or I’ll break his neck,” Ward replied wryly, “whichever comes first.”

Skye chuckled and had just opened her mouth to offer a scolding response when the door to the training room swung open again. It hit the adjacent wall hard, drawing the glances of the few remaining students who were still gathering their belongings. Everyone watched as a bundle of sheer energy careered into the gym, arms flung wide, making straight for where Skye and Grant stood.

“Mommy! Daddy!” the little voice shrieked exuberantly as Vivian arrived at her parents’ side and flung her arms around both of their legs.

Almost immediately the scowl on Ward’s face disappeared and, as the tiny child peered up at him, her smile the mirror image of his own, he scooped her up into his arms. Her giggle made his heart swell, and Skye watched their interaction with a feeling of total contentment. For all the things Ward had been, she couldn’t have wished for a better father for her child. Although their daughter hadn’t exactly been planned – it turned out Inhuman genetics weren’t quite as receptive to normal human birth control – she wouldn’t change a day of their lives together.

Whilst Skye had never known the love of a mother herself, and the prospect of parenthood had been utterly terrifying, she’d fallen so madly in love with her daughter when she’d been placed in her arms that her fears had been quickly melted away. For his part, Grant delighted in watching Skye with their little girl. She would never be conventional and staid, but she was fun and energetic, loving and nurturing, and Vivi adored her.

Ward doted on his wife and daughter, and he had finally found the purpose he’d always been searching for in the two brown eyed beauties who owned his heart.

“Did you have fun with Gramma, peanut?” Skye asked, stroking her daughter’s long black hair, which fell in soft ringlets past her shoulders. Vivi most certainly had Skye’s eyes but her smile and her colouring were all her daddy’s – a fact that the four year old exploited at every opportunity.

“Uh-huh,” Vivi nodded her head enthusiastically, her hands gripping the fabric of her father’s uniform as he held her against his chest.

Ward smiled as he watched Skye repeatedly press kisses to their daughter’s chubby cheek. His hand landed on Skye’s waist and he encircled them both in a protective grip - his entire world right there in his arms.

A few of the remaining students shot them curious looks but the small family remained oblivious, noting only Lincoln’s presence in the doorway, since it was he that had ferried his little charge from May’s ever-watchful presence to her parents’.

“Thanks, Lincoln,” Skye called out, tearing her gaze away from Vivi long enough to direct a smile at her fellow Inhuman. Lincoln nodded his head, eyes still trained on Vivian as he watched in amusement whilst she mushed Ward’s features in her hands and he played along. It seemed that not one of the team had been able to resist being coiled around the little girl’s fingers from the moment of her birth, Lincoln included.

“No problem,” Lincoln replied, skirting around the students exiting the room as he approached Skye and Ward. “I’m afraid Coulson told me to round you two up for a meeting in thirty minutes though.”

Skye let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, accepting Vivi from Ward’s arms when he offered her. They would barely have time to hit the showers, scrape together some lunch for their daughter, and then find someone with enough free time to watch her before the meeting. As much as Skye adored their director, sometimes she thought he expected her to produce actual miracles with the time he allotted for his impossible tasks.

“I guess I’ll be skipping lunch… and showering…” she quipped, shaking her head. Lincoln smirked, pausing to tickle Vivi under the chin.

“Don’t skip showering,” he advised with a wrinkle of his nose, which would have earned him a playful slap from Skye had she not been holding her daughter. “I’m about to head out on a supply run. I could take Miss. Ward here with me. She knows all the best breakfast cereals and… I heard a rumour that I’m going to be passing a McDonalds.”

Upon hearing the magic word, Vivian’s tiny face practically lit up and she gasped in excitement. “McDonalds, Mommy!”

Ward rolled his eyes good naturedly as he gathered his towel and kit bag from the floor, “Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor, Campbell?”

Laughing and holding up his hands in full admission of guilt, Lincoln shrugged as he replied, “I promise to pick the apple slices over the French fries. Besides, a certain biochemist needs to pick up a few supplies, so Vivi and I will have a junk food chaperone.”

Her cheek pressed to her daughter’s, Skye jiggled the toddler, whispering loud enough for Ward to hear, “ _Get the fries, baby_!”

Ward laughed, sighing in defeat as Skye winked at him. He bent his head to press a kiss to her lips, which rapidly escalated into another and then another.

“Eww! No!” Vivi protested, comically clamping her hands over her ears when the adults assumed she had meant to instead cover her eyes.

“Okay, we’ll go grab her coat and I’ll drop her off in the lab in five,” Ward said, setting Vivian down on the floor and grasping her hand in his. Together, they walked out of the gym, although Vivi was practically skipping by her father’s side with the promise of chicken nuggets filling her with childish glee.

“Sounds like something serious. Should we be worried?” Skye asked, tipping her head as she returned her gaze to Lincoln.

Lincoln rubbed one palm along his jaw as he replied, “Not entirely sure. I don’t think the world is ending but… it’s Tuesday so all bets are off.”

“Great,” Skye’s lips formed a tight line and she widened her eyes pointedly as they trailed after Ward’s retreating figure.

She watched him walking with Vivi, perhaps only a few feet ahead, and she smiled as she noted how tiny their daughter looked by his side. Father and child appeared happily caught up in conversation, and at intervals the little girl paused in order to throw her head back with a fit of giggles.

Skye hadn’t noted the smile on her own lips until she felt the weight of Lincoln’s stare.

“Sorry, I…” she shook her head, laughing at the sentimental, probably aimless grin she knew she must have been sporting. Lincoln jammed his hands into his pockets and simply shrugged, genuinely pleased to see his friend truly happy. “Thank you for taking care of Vivi. She loves hanging out with you, and we know you’ll always look out for her.”

The young doctor smiled and cocked his head, “She’s a smart kid. Kind of cute, too… if you ignore the ‘Grant Ward’ death glare she’s perfected lately.”

Skye snorted with laughter, digging her elbow playfully into the top of his arm, “Hey, my baby girl is beautiful.”

“She is,” Lincoln agreed, although this time both his tone and expression hinted only at his sincerity, “she looks a lot like her mom.”

Catching the slightly analytical glance Skye sneaked in his direction, Lincoln offered her a reassuring roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m way past the ‘she could’ve been mine’ thing. Although… there is a country song about that you should listen to some time.”

Skye let out another snort of laughter, jarring Lincoln’s ribs with her elbow as the two of them walked on, heading towards the labs. They had never truly been ‘involved’ with each other in the strictest sense of the word but at one point in time Lincoln had certainly had designs on Skye’s affections. That was until he had realised that she was more than just a little taken with the handsome, fire wielding Inhuman that had landed in Afterlife with her.

“I guess we’re probably going on a mission,” Skye sighed, shooting a glance through the glass doors of the lab as they drew to a halt just feet in front of it. She spotted Simmons busily weaving around inside and, when the other woman suddenly looked up, they exchanged smiles and waves.

“Thinking of giving it all up?” Lincoln queried, genuinely sounding curious as he observed Skye, who stood with her back leaning against the wall.

“No, why would you…?” she began, pausing when Lincoln chuckled.

“I heard you guys started renovating the house,” he explained, “and Ward has been less than secretive about wanting to give Vivi a little brother or sister. I just wondered if you two were about ready to hang up the tac. vests. I can’t say I’d blame you.”

Shrugging absently, Skye watched Ward bend down and help Vivian into her coat. She didn’t miss the moment he took the tracker from Jemma’s hand and attached the tiny piece of tech. behind the clip on the bow in the child’s hair.

“Well we can have those things and stay with S.H.I.E.L.D., Lincoln. We don’t have to be living on base to be part of the team. You guys are family now. And yeah, Grant and I have talked about trying for a baby once we’re settled, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be out of the field forever. Can you really see me stuck at home like some soccer mom? No, thanks. I love my life… every part of it, and that includes my job too. It’s who I am.” Catching the beaming smile Vivian sent her as she waved through the windows of the lab, Skye added sincerely, “I’d give up everything on this Earth for them if I had to. But Coulson’s never gonna give me that ultimatum. He knows family is everything to me. _It's all I've ever wanted_.”

“We’re all ready to go, Uncle Lincoln!” Jemma trilled, clutching Vivian’s hand. The child stood waiting, beaming at Lincoln as she swayed from side to side in her dark pink coat. Everything had to be pink for Vivian Ward – much to ‘Gramma’ May’s disdain. She loved Disney princesses and bows, doted on her baby dolls as she saw her mother dote on her, and she had an affinity for animals – dogs in particular – that she inherited from her father.

“I’ll see you later,” Lincoln said, offering Skye a smile as he bumped her shoulder deliberately with his, “I gotta go feed a kid her own weight in battered chicken products.”

“Don’t you dare, Campbell,” Ward warned, shaking his head as Lincoln walked away chuckling, his hand on Vivian’s shoulder to guide her to the waiting SUV. Louis, her prized plush lizard, dangled from one hand, and her steady stream of chatter could be heard long after the lab doors had swished closed behind them.

“I guess we have twenty-five minutes,” Skye stated as she shot a glance at her watch then peered up at Ward, who was still staring at the closed lab doors as though something precious had been stolen from right under his nose. “Hey, sappy pants, she’ll be back in an hour tops.

Ward smiled almost self-consciously, his cheeks reddening just a little as he realised that he had been caught; he treasured every second spent with Vivi and could never quite abate the worry that gnawed at him whenever she was away from her parents’ care. He knew the team would never willingly allow any harm to come to the child, but he always felt better knowing that he was nearby to assure her safety.

Skye smiled as she felt him suddenly grip her hand, and the couple fell into step as they made their way towards their room. Leaning her head on Ward’s arm, she waited until they’d reached their door before she moved to slide her arms around his neck.

Skye stood on the tips of her toes in order to press her forehead to Grant’s, and she sighed happily when he wrapped his arms around her in response. His embrace was grounding and reassuring, and Skye never felt anything but loved when he held her.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, before he sought out her lips and kissed her tenderly.

Drawing back to peer up at him, she regarded her husband with a smile that made her eyes shine with happiness. “I love you, too.”

They exchanged another kiss before Ward leaned around her and opened the door to their room, allowing them to stumble inside, caught up in nothing but thoughts of each other.

“We’ve got twenty-five minutes, Grant,” she warned, beginning to peel off her t-shirt as he watched with darkened eyes, his gaze wanton and wholly lustful.

“Well in that case, we better make them count,” he reasoned, pulling his own shirt up and over his head. He smirked when Skye predictably stared at his toned chest.

Skye whoopeed with surprise as Grant reached out and seized her in his arms, then hoisted her up until her legs encircled his waist.

“Well,” she decided, craning her neck as he began to drag kisses along her throat, “I guess we do need to practice our baby making skills.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled into their kisses.

It had been decided that once the family of three were settled into their new home, Skye would speak to Jemma about removing the implant nestled under the skin in her arm, and they’d soon become a family of four. Whether it would work that way or not, Skye finally felt at a stage in her life to dare to hope for things, and adding to their family was something she knew they both longed for above everything else.

Their laughter trailed off as Ward made his way to the bathroom, kicking open the door with one foot without pausing as he carried Skye inside. He was reluctant to allow his lips to leave her skin for even a second. Soon the clouds of steam and sound of running water filled the bedroom along with lustful moans and cries of pleasure, as the couple lost themselves in each other.

Twenty-nine minutes and forty-six seconds later, they arrived at their meeting.

 

**x-x-x**

The tac. gear she wore felt heavier than usual, as though it was weighing down her limbs, but Skye pressed onwards and attempted to ignore the unease that had settled in her stomach. She shot a glance at Ward from her position behind the shrubbery, gnawing on her bottom lip in an uncharacteristically nervous manner. Ward met Skye’s gaze from across the driveway, since he had taken up a spot behind the opposing bush that lined the entrance walk to the house. It was an unexceptional residence, probably no more than four bedrooms at most and certainly not a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but it was what was contained inside that had been awarded highest priority; namely, the wife and three children of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most generous sponsors.

A team of Inhumans who had inexplicably aligned themselves with Hydra had reportedly broken into the home in the early hours of the morning, and had been holding the small family hostage since. Their demands, issued directly to Mr. Aspenall himself via his personal email account, included not only money and S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence, but also assurances that he would give himself up in order to save his loved ones. He had been given 12 hours to make his decision and gather together all that they demanded, and he was fast running out of time. Of course, Coulson had no intention of allowing the man to put himself in harm’s way, or to compromise S.H.I.E.L.D. in such a manner, and so he had assured him that the Secret Warriors would act in all of their best interests.

The plan was a relatively simple one; Skye, Ward and Lincoln would storm the front of the house and engage the Inhuman Hydra operatives within, whilst a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. Specialists would go in through the basement and retrieve the hostages. Mr. Aspenall’s home security system had provided them with the number of perpetrators after Skye had managed to hack into it, but the natures of their powers were as of yet unconfirmed. However, both Lincoln and Ward seemed confident that they could handle the seven super-powered henchmen, and so Skye strived to shelve the worry that gnawed at her gut. She was often a little jumpy before a mission these days, since her safety meant so much more now that Vivian was there to depend on her; Skye herself had grown up with the shadow of a dead mother hanging over her and she couldn’t imagine anything worse to inflict upon her own little girl.

“You okay?” Lincoln hissed at her side, arching a brow as his eyes swept Skye’s features analytically. She didn’t respond but instead directed another look at Grant, who offered her a thin smile that immediately imbued her with a little more confidence. Finally, she nodded at Lincoln.

“Let Beta Team know we’re going in in ten,” she said, her voice low and unwavering. They had a job to do and it was time to push aside her personal baggage.

Dusk had only just fallen, offering the team some cover of darkness. Each of the security lights lining the fence had been deactivated by FitzSimmons, who had also helpfully jammed the cameras that positioned around the perimeter of the property.

Ward toyed with the stun grenade in his hand, testing its weight. Then, he nodded at Skye to relay that he had received contact from the second team of agents in his earpiece.

“Alpha Team are go,” Ward hissed into his comms. device, and in the next instant the three Inhumans darted towards the front of the house. Just a few short years ago Grant would have had his guns drawn by now, but these days he relied on something else entirely for his protection. He still enjoyed taking down opponents with his bare hands, (his prowess as a Specialist was infamous within the world of espionage, after all), but he had come to realise that such a technique would likely not be effective when dealing with more super powered villains. Which, he had to admit, happened more than he liked these days.

“On three,” Skye directed, flanking one side of the door with Ward whilst Lincoln took up the other.

Skye raised three fingers in a silent countdown and by the time she had lowered them all the team sprang to life. Skye wasted no time in blowing the front door clean off its hinges with a well-practised wave of her hand. The panel of wood was sent spinning down the hallway towards two of the Inhuman henchmen, who had been unfortunate enough to be lingering in the vicinity at the wrong moment.

Using both hands to simultaneously toss two stun grenades into the back of the hallway, Ward strode in, already toying with the link of blazing chains that flowed from his hand.

“Beta Team, you’re up!” Ward barked into his comms. piece. He cocked his head at the sound of feet pounding the hallway upstairs, and it wasn’t long before two more Hydra goons came to join the fray.

Whilst Lincoln set to work engaging the operatives in the hallway, Ward positioned himself at the bottom of the winding staircase, ready to deal with anyone who should emerge from above. Satisfied that the men could hold down the fort in the entrance of the house, Skye darted into the first room on her left, which she hoped might contain the known ringleader of the group; a woman with the power to adopt animal form, who was a new face in Hydra’s ever-increasing army.

Skye cursed when she found herself in a deserted study, faced with nothing but shelves of musty smelling books and a computer that appeared so outdated from a first glance that it was embarrassing. She stormed to the nearest closed doorway at the back of the room and wasted no time in kicking it in, this time relieved to find herself standing in the entrance of the lounge.

She shot a quick glance to the couch, where a middle-aged woman huddled with two teenage girls and a little boy who was perhaps twice Vivian’s age. Skye did her best to flash them all a soothing smile before she directed her attention to the Inhuman woman staring her down from the centre of the room. The woman wore a set of black Hydra emblazoned tac. gear but nothing covered her head, which had been shaved clean to the skin. A tattoo of a wolf baying adorned the skin above her right ear and Skye was suddenly filled with a sinking feeling as she began to realise just what that might mean.

“So, I hear you’ve been a pretty shitty houseguest,” Skye stated, doing her best to maintain an air of bravado that she didn’t feel, “trampling flower beds, taking these nice people hostage… shedding on the furniture.”

The woman cocked her head and smirked, flashing Skye a glimpse of teeth that had already begun to elongate into fangs. A million curse words flashed through Skye’s mind but she spoke none of them, instead tossing her hair over her shoulder with feigned indifference.

“You’ve heard of me,” the woman observed, seeming quite pleased by the fact.

“All bad things,” Skye replied, her smile bright but phoney, “mostly I’m just assuming that you’re the shape shifting mutt that Hydra leashed a few months back. Am I getting warm?”

“Oh, I’ve read all about you, Quake. Hydra have amassed quite a file on you and your husband.”

Skye shot a quick glance out towards the hallway, where Ward and Lincoln appeared to be successfully dealing with the minions they had encountered. Despite their shaky start – founded almost totally on jealousy – the two men made a good team out in the field. Ward’s experience and skills were aided by Lincoln’s superior knowledge of Inhuman powers, and it had been him who had taught both Skye and Ward how to control the ‘gifts’ they possessed.

“I’m touched,” Skye replied wryly, noting with building trepidation how the woman’s features had suddenly started changing before her eyes. From behind her the terrified screams of the two teenage girls made her ears ring. The little boy took shelter in his mother’s arms, too afraid to even dare make a sound.

“Let’s just get this over with, huh Lassie?”

But the creature now standing before her, hackles raised, looked like no dog Skye had ever seen before, and the grotesque merging of wolf and Inhuman left her heart hammering in her chest.

It arched its back to eye its prey. Fur had sprouted across the woman’s bald head and cheeks, and her nose had stretched into a snout that housed rows of fangs. Her ears had adopted a pointed appearance whilst her fingernails had curved into claws that were at least inches long.

Suddenly leaping into the air, the wolf lunged at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Quickly, Skye harnessed all of her power in order to send a surge of energy to counter the beast’s strike, and yet it still made headway towards her.

The wolf-like woman fought through the waves that Skye blasted towards her, her head down and a snarl burbling on her deformed lips. A laugh escaped her but due to her transformation it came off sounding far more like a growl that had rumbled from her chest cavity.

“Shit…” Skye swore, realising as sweat beaded on her brow and yet the wolf pressed onwards that she wasn’t going to be able to hold her back with her powers alone. Making a snap decision, Skye braced herself for the impact of another body rushing her and dropped her raised hand. The other Inhuman crashed into her harder than expected, taking them both down to the floor, and she managed to sink her teeth into Skye’s forearm before the agent could yank it out of reach.

Skye let out a yelp of pain, using her free and uninjured arm to bash the wolf on the snout in the hopes that its jaws would release.

Lurching back, the Inhuman smiled, baring a row of sharp and jagged teeth, some of which were now stained with Skye’s blood.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, and after I do maybe I’ll kill your husband too. Leave that precious little child of yours an orphan, just like its mommy… or… maybe I’ll kill them too.”

Anger surged through Skye’s veins in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced before – a visceral, all-consuming rage that made her skin hum with the power demanding to be unleashed from within. Skye knew Hydra had been aware of her pregnancy, but S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence suggested that they had yet to determine even if the child had been a boy or a girl. The hybrid’s uncertainty on the subject was at least reassuring; either Hydra had simply failed to gather that information, or they didn’t care enough to search it out.

Her jaw set, Skye struggled against the grasp of the creature. “You don’t get to threaten my husband, and nobody threatens my baby.”

Letting out a scream of anger and frustration, Skye sent a wave of power surging from every pore of her body, and the beast flew violently across the room. Its eyes widened in surprise as it felt its body leave the ground, and it slammed into the opposite wall with a sickening thud that left a smear of blood on the plaster. Climbing to her feet, Skye took a step closer to the wolf and held out both hands in a gesture that dared her to lunge again.

From the corner of her eye, Skye watched as Agent Forbes darted into the room, skirting around the ensuing melee in order to reach the couch. The blonde agent seized the arms of both still weeping teenage girls and propelled them forcibly towards the exit, before ensuring that their mother was in tow.

“Don’t go far,” the wolf-woman barked in her husky, unearthly tone. Skye held her bleeding arm by her side, trying to ignore how the blood trickled in thick rivulets from the holes in her sleeve and dripped onto the wooden floor at her feet.

The Inhuman licked her teeth, tasting the blood lingering there, and her eyes glowed amber with pleasure.

“Hey, we’re not done yet,” Skye snapped, wasting no time in flinging herself at the wolf before she had time to regroup from the last attack. Ignoring the pain in her arm, Skye rained a series of vicious blows down on the beast, doing her best to strike her across her head as much as possible. Seeming surprised by Skye’s vitality even after such a bite, the other Inhuman faltered for a few moments, doing her best to simply stave off Skye’s punches and prevent them from connecting with her temple.

As Skye attacked, Agent Forbes wrapped an arm around the trembling little boy who was still rooted to the couch, watching the fight playing out in front of him with wide and disbelieving eyes.

“Come on, kid, this way,” Agent Forbes encouraged, her fingers closing around the boy’s arm as she tugged him up and off the couch, into the safety of her side. “Your Mom’s outside. We’re going to get you to her. You just stay with me and… don’t look…”

Doing her best to shield the child’s eyes from the violent battle raging in the middle of his home, Agent Forbes made a beeline for the second lounge door that would lead them through to another hallway. She had already instructed Mrs. Aspenall and her daughters to escape through the kitchen and into the back yard, where another team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents waited to receive them.

Directing another jolt of energy at the creature, Skye took great delight in the sound of glass smashing and wood splintering as the Inhuman fell backwards into a table. An unearthly shriek of pain filled the air as it tried to pull a large shard of glass from where it had wedged in its abdomen.

Backing up so as to provide Agent Forbes some protection, Skye watched as the beast’s eyes quickly panned from the blonde haired field agent to the little boy grasping her hand with terror in his eyes.

“Go!” Skye shouted as the creature lurched with renewed strength at the pair, claws outstretched and teeth bared into a sinister growl. The wolf-like monster seemed unaffected by the surges of energy sent in its direction, and Skye let out a cry with simply the effort of trying to hold her back.

“Get him out of here!” Skye yelled desperately, but the blonde agent stood frozen in shock and in that moment Skye realised a terrible decision had befallen her.

The hybrid would make contact with its prey in seconds, and so the Inhuman leader had a choice to make; the life of her S.H.I.E.L.D. colleague, or the life of a child. Her heart shattered as she took a final moment to glance between them, but there was no way Skye could save both with her waning powers.

Gritting her teeth, already struggling with holding the weight of the wolf in place, and with her forearm bleeding profusely, Skye made her call. Dropping to her knees with the effort it took, she released the Inhuman from the tenuous hold her powers kept on her and instead directed a blast of energy at the little boy, just in time. He was sent careering backwards and he landed hard on the floor, but he had been removed from the direct path of the oncoming monster, which was more than could be said for Agent Forbes. The woman screamed as the Inhuman’s teeth fastened around her throat and Skye added to the chaotic din with a yell of her own. She crawled forwards, knees sliding on her own blood and the pieces of glass littering the floor, as she desperately attempted to yank the wolf off the agent with her remaining strength. However, her powers barely managed to latch onto the creature, who was tearing at Agent Forbes’ neck in a frenzy.

“No!” Skye screamed, barely managing to stagger to her feet. In a last, valiant attempt to help the fallen agent, Skye flung herself on the wolf-woman’s back, tugging hard on her ears as she tried to pry those vice-like jaws away from Agent Forbes. The blonde woman lay in a growing pool of blood, which spurted from the torn artery in her throat with deadly and unstoppable speed. Skye’s stomach turned at the sight but she could do very little to aid the agent from her position on top of the Inhuman, who was only seconds away from flinging Skye backwards anyway.

Barely a beat after that realisation, Skye found herself lying on her back on the lounge floor, staring up at the ceiling as she gasped for breath. She had been winded by the fall and her lungs burned as she attempted to suck in much needed oxygen. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes but Skye could still make out the bloodied features of the Hydra monster as it loomed over her, preparing to strike.

Before she had time to react, the beast let out a squeal and when Skye looked up it was to see a link of flaming chains wrapping tightly around the wolf’s throat. It thrashed at its neck with its talons, the sickening smell of burning fur and charred skin making Skye’s stomach heave.

The Hydra agent, desperate to make another kill, and perhaps claim the infamous ‘Quake’ as her next and likely final victim, lunged forward at the woman pinned beneath her. But Ward was faster, and he ruthlessly yanked the chain around her neck until she flew with force into the hallway, where she crashed into the staircase bannister amidst a cloud of splintering wood and plaster.

A pair of strong arms suddenly pulled Skye to her feet, and she nodded dumbly to indicate she was okay. Ward cupped her cheek and lifted her head to meet his concerned gaze, his flames momentarily absent.

Glancing over to where Lincoln knelt at Agent Forbes’ side, Ward’s expression grew grim as the other Inhuman merely shook his head. Lincoln reached out to gently close the dead woman’s terror-stricken eyes. Blood ebbed in a pool across the floor and Skye realised that Agent Forbes had not stood a chance against the savagery of the Hydra beast.

“Incoming, doc,” Ward directed, pushing Skye behind him as he noted her injuries. Lincoln stood up just in time to intercept the wolf, but it took both men to channel their combined powers to subdue it. Whilst still holding her in a static charge that limited her movements, Lincoln’s gaze ticked to Ward, and less than a moment later a blazing fireball engulfed the creature. Her screams and cries of pain seemed to have little effect on any of the Inhumans present, who only watched her slowly succumb to the flames without a trace of regret.

Noting one of the Inhuman henchmen start to rouse from his unconscious slumber, Ward strode into the hall and delivered a swift kick to the man’s head, repeating the blow purely out of rage.

Skye felt numbness washing over her and she dropped to her knees at Agent Forbes’ side. Even with her eyes closed, the woman looked far from peaceful and Skye felt her stomach clench at the realisation that this was her fault; another death was on her.

She looked around the room frantically for the young boy she had barely managed to save, her heart skipping in relief as she noted that his mother had swept into the room with another agent and was gathering him up in her arms. He was crying loudly and hard, and Skye could not blame him since she felt like doing the exact same.

The hand that landed softly on her injured arm had her gritting her teeth and hissing, even attempting to pull away. However, when Skye looked up quickly, ready for a fight again, she saw only Lincoln peering down at her in concern.

“Let me look at that,” he offered, his eyes not leaving the steady stream of blood leaking from her wounds, “you’re losing more blood than I’d like.”

“I’m fine…” Skye retorted, her tone more abrasive than she had intended, but her gaze had already ticked back to Agent Forbes’ corpse and she was having a hard time functioning.

“You’re swaying on your feet,” Lincoln replied, shaking his head and reaching for Skye again.

Stooping down, Ward gently but firmly fastened an arm around her waist. He used his free hand to carefully capture the wrist of her injured arm, which he examined with a furrowed brow.

“It’s fine, Grant. I heal quickly, remember?!” she insisted, hardly caring for her own injuries given her mother’s rejuvenate DNA, and also the dead woman lying in a puddle of her own blood at their feet.

“It’s not fine,” Ward countered. He glanced around when several uniformed S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents ran into the room, the combined noise of their boots pounding the wooden floorboards creating a din that also drew Lincoln’s attention. The agents were evidently anxious to clear up the scene of devastation and take the Hydra operatives into custody, and they set to work without exchanging any kind of verbal communication.

“Let Lincoln take a look when we’re back at base,” he demanded, holding out Skye’s arm as Lincoln removed a pressure bandage from the small pouch on his belt and began to hurriedly apply a field dressing to the wound.

Skye’s eyes never left the dead woman’s body, and both men were taken aback when she exclaimed quietly, “She was married.”

Diverting their gazes to the blonde’s lifeless body, Ward and Lincoln noted the gold band on her finger with a simultaneous sigh.

“Baby, come on. Let’s go home,” Ward attempted to comfort her, drawing her into his chest and wrapping her in an embrace. “It wasn’t your fault, Skye. Sometimes we can’t save everyone.”

Skye nodded her head, screwing her eyes shut in defiance against the tears that burned them, threatening a sudden descent. She would not cry; she was stronger than that. She would not make a fool of herself in a room full of agents. She was Quake, for Christ’s sake.

Sucking in a deep breath, she managed to gather her wits just enough to stumble along at Ward’s side as he led her to the front entrance of the house. The missing door reminded her anew of their mission, and her ultimate failure.

As they reached the S.H.I.E.L.D. SUV’s parked outside on the street, Skye was suddenly aware of someone tugging on her uninjured arm. Spinning around, she found herself face to face with the mother of the terrified children she had saved.

Lip trembling, the woman awarded Skye with a smile and, seemingly without a second thought, she embraced the young agent tightly in a display of gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you,” she sobbed, her eyes darting furtively to the bandage on Skye’s arm. “You saved my babies. I don’t know how to ever thank you.”

Managing a brief smile, Skye noted the little boy clinging to his mother’s leg, and she reached out to ruffle his sweat soaked hair.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she assured her, hoping her attempt at a smile was enough to calm the child’s nerves.

Throughout her time at S.H.I.E.L.D., and perhaps even before, children had always tugged at Skye’s heart strings. Maybe it had been her time at the orphanage, where she’d become a ‘big sister’ figure to so many unwanted kids - or maybe it was just her own innate desire to nurture and protect - but every case involving a child weighed especially heavy on her shoulders.

From the corner of her eye Skye watched the body bag being carried from the property by two solemn faced S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and her breath caught in her throat with a noisy rasp. Suddenly, her thoughts were no longer with the frightened family they had just rescued. The nightmare was over for them, after all.

Reaching out and linking her fingers with Wards, Skye found that she could think of nothing but the husband who was waiting for his wife to come home.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**“I’ve Grown Familiar with Villains that Live in my Head”**

**Two**

**x-x-x**

 

The curtain of the med bay cubicle was tugged open so unceremoniously that it was actually ripped free of several hooks. The result was that it hung limply from the metal rod as Skye breezed through it, after having shoved Lincoln roughly aside. The doctor only stared after her, a look of sad understanding spread across his features, even as Skye barely paused to address her husband, who had been waiting outside the bay for her for the better part of thirty minutes.

“Don’t follow me,” she flung at Grant. She stamped towards the double doors of the medical room, which she sent flying open before she had even reached them with a wave of her hand.

Bewildered, Grant stared after his wife, who had managed to retreat into the corridor in impressive time. He had noted that her arm was newly bandaged at least, but he gathered that whatever else had transpired in the medical bay, it had not been to Skye’s satisfaction.

Ward directed his gaze to Lincoln, who had begun cleaning up bloodstained gauze and used needles, his shoulders a little more hunched than usual. Generally, Skye and Lincoln were close, having forged an almost sibling bond in the heat of the war that Jiaying had waged against S.H.I.E.L.D. There was very little that the two could not confide in each other, or discuss, and it wasn’t at all like Skye to direct her wrath at the man who had become like a member of her own family.

“What happened in here?” Ward inquired, still undecided as to whether he should be having this conversation with Lincoln or instead ignoring his wife’s wishes in order to trail after her.

“She didn’t like my suggestion that she’s exhibiting signs of shock, agitation, and acute anxiety,” Lincoln stated, glancing up at Grant as he paused to remove his gloves, “I told her I wanted to bench her for a few days. She disagreed… strongly.”

Rubbing his jaw and huffing out a sigh, Ward arched an eyebrow, “I’ll bet she did.”

“She needs time, Grant,” Lincoln explained with a shrug. He disposed of the final needle in the sharps bin before he pulled what was left of the curtain all the way around the examination table. “That bite wound isn’t healing as quickly as I’d have anticipated given her DNA. And emotionally?”

“Yeah, I know,” Ward agreed, his arms folding across his chest as he pondered just how to go about placating his whirlwind of a wife. Once Skye was upset about something, there was often very little he could do but be there to offer comfort and weather the proverbial storm. Telling her to ‘calm down’ was a mistake he’d only made once.

“Why isn’t she healing?” he demanded, his features suddenly clouding over in concern as he recalled Lincoln’s words, “you said the bite wasn’t healing as quickly as it should?”

If there was one good thing Jiaying had passed down to her daughter, it was the ability to heal quicker than most humans. It was a gift that had only come to light a year or so after Skye had gone through Terrigenesis, when they’d all noticed how cuts and bruises sustained in the field had virtually disappeared a short time later. Mere hours after Vivian’s birth Skye had been up on her feet, desperate to finish painting the nursery mural and assemble the changing table, much to Jemma’s horror.

Lincoln puffed out his cheeks and shrugged.

“My best guess? The toxicology report tells us that the Inhuman she fought was amped up on some pretty hard-core drugs. Whatever Hydra shot her up with, it magnified her powers three-fold. I’ve never seen Skye unable to take down an Inhuman before. You know how powerful she is but that fight drained her. I’ll take a look at her arm again tomorrow, but with a little rest and TLC, her regenerative power should catch up to her. Don’t worry about it, Grant,” he placed a hand on Ward’s shoulder, “your wife’s not about to turn into a werewolf.”

Earning a rare smile from Ward, who usually treated Lincoln’s quips with an air of exasperation, the doctor strolled away, leaving the Specialist alone with his thoughts.

Halting in his tracks, Lincoln shot Ward a reassuring smile that betrayed just how far the two agents had come since their initial period of loathing and jealousy had waned.

“And if you guys need anything else, I make house calls.”

Nodding his head in silent thanks, Ward watched Lincoln leave. With the other man’s absence, he found himself lost in thought in the silence of the medical bay.

Grant had made hundreds of tough calls over the years - decisions that had meant life or death to countless people – and most of the time he’d never let it get to him. He’d compartmentalised, the way he’d been taught to. Children he found harder to deal with now that he was a father himself. Every kid somehow morphed into Vivi, and he understood just how terrible the call Skye had to make was.

Of course, the biggest regret of his life remained John Garrett. Sometimes he found himself pondering just where he’d be if Coulson hadn’t surprised them all by giving him a second chance. Would someone else have taken his place on the team? What terrible downwards spiral would his own life have taken? He wondered if Skye would be with Lincoln, and he found it difficult to contemplate a reality where his little girl had never and would never exist.

If anybody had been an expert at making bad decisions it was Grant Ward, and there was no way he was going to let Skye destroy herself over making a call that every agent on base would have made in her place.

Turning on his heel, he hurried to set out towards their quarters, determined to make Skye see sense, or even just to hold her when she broke down. Because as she’d taught him all those years ago, that’s what you do when you love somebody.

 

**x-x-x**

“And then the beautiful princess said, _‘are you kidding me, I don’t need a guy to save my ass’_.”

“Mommy, bad word!” Vivi protested, hiding her giggles behind her hand as she peered at Skye over the head of her cherished lizard.

Skye winced, rubbing at her forehead with one hand as she apologised, “Right, sorry, honey. The princess said, _‘I don’t need a guy to save my butt’_.”

Vivi nodded her head in approval and settled back against her pillows. She reclined in her twin bed like a miniature queen, surrounded by her stuffed toys and dressed in her brightest pink nightdress, complete with ruffled sleeves and skirt. Ward had reasoned at the store when Skye had bought it that it couldn’t possibly be a comfortable or practical choice for sleeping attire, but predictably Vivi had loved it.

“So then, the handsome prince, who was also a black belt in Krav Maga…” Skye began, trailing off when Vivi’s fingers brushed against the bandage wrapped around her arm. The little girl’s eyes creased at the corner as she frowned, peering at her mother’s arm analytically whilst her hand brushed the fabric with a featherlight touch.

“Mommy, you got an owie?” Vivi asked, her eyes fixing on Skye’s face. She was disturbed to recognise the sadness written in her mother’s features and she scooted closer in order to offer her own special brand of comfort in the form of Louis the lizard.

“You can snuggle Louis,” she suggested, finally consenting to smile when Skye dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.

“I’m okay, baby,” Skye assured her, swallowing down the sorrow that welled in her chest.

“How did you get it?” Vivi pressed, patting Skye’s arm before settling her hands back in her lap.

Skye pursed her lips, pondering the four-year old’s question for a moment and just how to reply so that her daughter wouldn’t be afraid.

“Well, you know that Mommy and Daddy help people, right?”

Vivi nodded her head resolutely, “Uh-huh. You scare away the bad guys.”

“That’s right,” Skye replied, stroking the girl’s forehead. She halted suddenly when she sensed Ward’s watchful presence in the doorway. A slow smile began to settle on her lips even before she’d glanced up to meet his gaze. “And sometimes the bad guys are kind of mean.”

Vivi’s brow creased into a frown that was so much like her father’s that Skye couldn’t help her smile growing wider. “Like Ursula?”

“Uh… sure, yeah,” Skye said, endlessly amused by her daughter’s obsession with all things princess related. Ariel was her very favourite of late, much to May’s chagrin and insistence that Mulan was infinitely the superior character. “But that’s nothing for you to worry about, okay? Because there’s always a happy ending, right?”

Grinning so that her brown eyes crinkled in the corners, Vivi replied with a confident nod of agreement.

The child stared up at her mother analytically for a few moments before finally she reached up two pudgy hands. Vivian clasped onto her mother’s face with perhaps less tenderness than had been intended. “Mommy, are you sad?”

The bed dipped behind Skye as Ward perched at her side, his arm weaving around her whilst his hand landed on her thigh. She clasped his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly, grateful for his endless understanding.

“My heart’s just a little hurt tonight, baby. But it’ll be all better by morning. Promise,” Skye assured her, her fingertips drifting over the toddler’s face.

She stroked her fingertip lightly down the bridge of her daughter’s nose, and the little girl giggled before she dragged Skye’s hand to her chest in a clumsy hug.

Looking up at her father, Vivi reached out in demand for his free hand, and he dutifully clasped her fingers within his own.

“Daddy, do you get sad?” she wondered aloud, wholly ignorant of the adoring gazes her parents had her affixed with.

“I did, a long time ago. But then Mommy made it all better,” he assured her, sliding his arm around Skye’s waist as she leaned back against him. She craned her neck to press her face into his warm skin.

“Oh,” Vivian frowned, thinking this over for a moment before she looked up hopefully at her father, her expression indicating that she was serious in her demand, “then you make Mommy better. ‘Kay?”

Ward managed to thwart his smile of amusement and instead offered Vivi the most solemn nod he could muster.

“I’ll do my best,” he promised, leaning forwards and brushing a goodnight kiss against the child’s forehead. “Now, I think it’s about time someone closed their eyes and started counting sheep.”

“I’m not tired, daddy!” Vivian protested, her bottom lip jutting out and her arms crossing in front of her chest, which rendered her long-suffering lizard toy in an impressive headlock. Skye smirked, her eyes roving the stuffed animal, which had been a gift from Fitz for Vivi’s first birthday. It had been well loved over the years, to the point that Skye had been forced to enlist Simmons’ help in making several repairs to the seams. Louis the lizard had endured a lot in his time with Vivian Ward, including impromptu dunkings in the Playground toilets during potty training and more stints in the industrial lab washing machine than Skye could even count. Nevertheless, it was seldom far from Vivi’s grip, much to Fitz’s delight.

“Was that a whine I heard?” Ward asked, tilting his head and feigning surprise as he peered down at his daughter, who dramatically flopped back against her pillows. She shot a glare at her mother that communicated her displeasure with the situation even as Skye clambered to her feet, preparing to leave the room.

“No,” she answered, although her sulky tone was perhaps indication that she wasn’t being entirely truthful on the matter. Voice small and eyes wide, Vivi continued, “And Mommy didn’t finish the story yet.”

Bending over the pastel pink twin bed, Skye pulled the covers up under her daughter’s chin and stroked her finger over the bottom of the toddler’s sulky lip.

“We’ll finish the story tomorrow, alright? Cos I don’t know about you, but…” Skye staged the most dramatic yawn she could muster, “I’m pretty tired.”

Eyelids already beginning to flutter closed, Vivi sighed in defeat. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Skye echoed, leaning down and bumping her nose against the little girl’s, “I love you, baby girl.”

Quickly reaching up, and sending Louis face first into the wall in the process, Vivian waggled her fingers at her mother, drawing her closer so she could whisper, “I love you too, Mommy.”

Caressing the child’s cheek, Skye shot her a final smile before she climbed to her feet and linked her arm through Ward’s. That was, as soon as he had finished returning Vivian’s toy to her arms and had whispered his own goodnight.

Eyes suddenly wide, Vivian looked up in alarm, “Daddy?! The closet!”

“Ohhh, right!” Ward smacked the side of his head with his hand and shot her a reassuring smile, “Okay, let’s check for monsters.”

Looking under her bed he shook his head as he called out, “No monsters there…”

Dutifully opening the closet door next, her stepped in and raised his voice, as if he was seriously sweeping the space for monstrous assailants, “No monsters in here either!”

“No monsters!” Skye repeated, widening her eyes to emphasize that the supernatural sweep had not unearthed anything unusual in the youngest Ward’s bedroom.

Once satisfied that their daughter was settled and happily – although still unwillingly – about to succumb to sleep, the couple crept from the room, leaving the door ajar so that Vivian could find her way to them should she need to. Generally, the child liked her own bed, although early morning snuggles were something she sometimes demanded. Ward assumed that her propensity for ‘star fishing’ like her mother was perhaps why she preferred to sleep alone.

“We made such a cute kid,” Skye quipped, turning off the main light in their bedroom and instead fumbling for the switch on the bedside lamp.

Since the Playground had its own common room areas, a canteen, and a private communal kitchen, the Ward family quarters consisted only of two interjoining bedrooms and one en-suite bathroom. It had been a more than adequate space for the family of three since Vivian had come along four years ago, however, now that she was growing older, and Skye and Ward were seeking to add to their brood, it was no longer a practical living solution. It wouldn’t be long before Vivian would need to be enrolled in Pre-K, and Skye longed for her little girl to have her own garden to play in, as well as for a home of their own that allowed them to shut out the rest of the world whenever they desired. Although Skye and Ward were pleased that Vivi was growing up surrounded by an army of pseudo aunts, uncles, and honourary grandparents to lavish her with affection and attention, they both felt that perhaps the time had arrived for them to strike out on their own. With that in mind, Ward had used his savings to buy a house in the nearby town, hoping that it would afford them the best of both worlds; close proximity to their adoptive family and also a personal space of their own for the family they had created together. Contracts had been signed two weeks ago and the couple had already begun their renovations on the four-bedroom home, which would require just a little TLC before they could move in.

“Yeah, we did,” Ward concurred, waiting for Skye to change into her pyjama shorts and tank top before he perched on the edge of their bed and beckoned her over. This time, he let it slide when she simply dumped her black top and jeans on the floor instead of in the hamper. Willingly Skye moved to sit in front of him on the mattress, her eyes fluttering closed as Grant began to rub her shoulders in an attempt to ease some of the tension lingering in her muscles.

“You’re so good at that,” sighed Skye, content for the moment to just lose herself in Ward’s touch, and absolutely loathed to shatter the peace that had descended upon their little sanctuary.

She moaned in approval as his fingers kneaded her shoulder blades firmly, working out all the kinks. He followed the line of her spine carefully, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck when she arched her back. She could feel the tension beginning to ebb from her muscles, which had been coiled tightly all evening.

“Well, the boss said I had to make you happy, so…” Skye felt him smile against her skin and, momentarily pausing his impromptu massage, Ward slid his hands down her sides to wrap his arms around her slim waist.

Skye was more than happy to melt into his embrace, and she dropped her head back against his shoulder. She craned her neck to regard him as she caressed his arm and nuzzled against his skin.

“You make me happy every day,” she stated with sincerity, content for a few moments simply to stare into his eyes. Grant pressed an affectionate kiss to the tip of her nose before dragging his lips across her cheek and to the corner of her mouth.

A weary yet contented moan floated from her lips as his hands again began to expertly map the curves of her body, which generally he delighted in exploring with hands, teeth, and tongue.

But this evening was about making Skye feel safe and relaxed, so Grant continued on with his massage without ulterior motive. He paused occasionally in order to brush his lips against her shoulder, or to press an intimate kiss to her lips whenever she seemed keen to seek out his mouth with her own.

“You want me to get the Tiger balm?” he asked softly, failing to hide the smirk on his face as Skye at once realised his question was designed to make her laugh at his expense, or more specifically, at the recollection of one of their less successful bedroom exploits.

Snorting with amusement, she turned and kissed him quickly, not really feeling much like joking around but instantly amused by the memory his suggestion elicited; a massage that had turned to more amorous activities and then swiftly led to Skye sitting in a cool bath until the burning had subsided.

“No, I’m good, Mr. Magic Fingers,” she teased, her smile growing as she pondered perhaps the only occasion she hadn’t enjoyed his touch.

Ward chuckled and, as Skye turned around to face him, he rested his forehead against hers. They remained pressed together in complete silence for several long seconds, the mood noticeably having shifted from light-hearted to suddenly sombre.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, his hands leaving her shoulders and moving to rest in her lap, where her own hands nestled. Their fingers tangled together expertly, with a kind of practiced ease that came only with time spent together.

“I…” Skye faltered, her reassurances dying on her lips as the pale face of Agent Forbes flashed through her mind. Her first name had been Emily, Skye had learned upon returning to the base.

Approximately an hour ago, Coulson and May had departed the Playground to deliver the news to the woman’s husband. The couple had apparently been married for only two years, and Skye found herself momentarily thankful that at least there were no children involved. She didn’t envy Coulson the task of imparting such news at all, but how much worse she knew it could have been if Agent Forbes had also been leaving children behind.

“You don’t have to pretend, Skye,” Ward whispered, burying his nose in her hair and letting out a sigh that communicated his own sadness at the turn the mission had taken, “not with me.”

When Skye closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp, deep breath, Ward stroked the back of his hand along the line of her cheekbone. Minutes passed and it became apparent that Skye would say nothing, which Ward knew would make his job of attempting to support her no easier.

“Lincoln told me what happened,” Ward said, his tone as even and patient as always, “I think maybe a few days off could be just what you need.”

Skye heaved out a huff and executed an eyeroll that Ward didn’t miss.

“Not you too,” she sighed wearily, adding without any real malice, “traitor.”

Clasping their hands tighter together, Ward drew her back into his embrace, glad to find she went willingly.

“Skye, whatever you want to do, whatever you need, baby… let me be here for you.”

Turning her face so her cheek rested against his bare chest, Skye closed her eyes and listened to the soft thrum of Grant’s heart beneath her ear.

“You always are,” she answered, lifting their joined hands so she could wrap his arms around her body.

“And I always will be,” he vowed, resting his chin on her shoulder and frowning as he felt her shiver, “and I’ll always worry about you… so you better get used to another fifty years of being pissed off at me.”

“Sixty,” she corrected, glancing up at him with tears already forming in her eyes. The idea of not having him beside her was unimaginable; and once again it brought home the soul-destroying pain and heart-break that Agent Forbes’ husband must be going through.

“You know what happened in there wasn’t your fault, right?” he pressed, moving to clasp Skye’s chin in his fingers, softly and tenderly. She peered up into his eyes, moisture sparkling within her own, and Ward could tell immediately that she didn’t believe his protest in the slightest.

“I let her die, Grant,” she whispered, voice husky and broken, “I didn’t just slip up and make a mistake… I chose… I chose her to be the one that died.”

“Oh baby,” Ward soothed, gathering Skye up into his arms and clutching her to his chest as she choked out a sob; the first outpouring of emotion she had actually allowed herself since the mission had ended.

He held her tight, keeping her body tucked flush to his own, and as she cried as quietly as possible so as not to disturb their sleeping daughter, he rocked her from side to side. Her hands fisted his t-shirt and he could feel the wetness of her tears soaking through the fabric, making contact with his chest, but Ward couldn’t have cared less. Seeing Skye in pain, even just emotionally, was perhaps more difficult for him to cope with than taking a bullet.

“There was a little boy's life at stake,” he reminded her, mumbling into the crown of her head when he was certain she had calmed enough to really listen to him, “every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent knows that we sign on to be the first and last defence for the innocent. Agent Forbes wouldn’t have wanted you to make any other call.”

Noting how Skye was now shivering violently in his arms, Ward manoeuvred them towards the top of the bed. He drew back the covers and helped her crawl underneath the comforter before he lay beside her and curved his body around hers to provide extra warmth. Thanks to his powers, he rarely felt the cold these days, unless there were extremes of temperature.

“Skye, there’s a mother tucking her child into bed tonight because of you,” he stated, loosening his hold around her hips so she could roll over to face him. She stared up at him through teary eyes. “Coulson, May, Lincoln, FitzSimmons… me… we’d all have made the same decision. Think about Vivi. Think about _our_ baby… Fuck, Skye, if it wasn’t for you, that woman would have watched her eight-year old son be torn apart right in front of her, powerless to do anything to stop it. You saved his life. You saved their family.”

As graphic and unpalatable as the image was, Ward’s words finally seemed to make some headway with Skye. She thought about her own child and how she would move Heaven and Earth to keep her safe. Shuffling her body closer, she tangled her legs with her husband’s, only content when their arms were wrapped around each other and their bodies pressed together until even their chests rose and fell in unison.

“I just need time, Grant,” she whispered, tracing her fingertips over the hard lines of muscle on his bicep. “I need to find a way to make peace with it.”

His lips grazed her forehead and Skye closed her eyes at his touch.

“You don’t have to do it alone. You know I understand.” His expression darkened for a moment as he found himself reminded of his own somewhat sordid past. “Maybe better than anyone else.”

Skye’s fingers stilled on his back and she clutched at him tightly, her troubled and exhausted mind beginning to torment her with memories she’d long since filed away; Hydra, Garrett, her heart breaking at Ward’s betrayal, and the awful things she’d said to him that she was reminded of each time she saw the fading scar on his wrist.

Sensing the turn of her thoughts, and knowing that the more painful aspects of the past were not something to be discussed in the wake of such a tragedy, Ward tugged Skye closer.

“Get some sleep, I’ll be right here beside you,” he insisted, brushing his lips repeatedly against her cheek. Skye nodded and her eyelids flickered closed, but she assumed that sleep would be a long time finding her. However, she was proved wrong and, perhaps due to exhaustion from the mission, Skye was fast asleep inside minutes.

Grant held her, as he had promised, his mind replaying the events of the evening and his body poised to comfort Skye should she awaken again. He knew that she had had no other choice in the end – that he too would have saved the Aspenall boy over the agent, who had already lived four times as long as the child had. However, he also knew enough about Skye’s nature to realise that convincing her of as much would be the truly difficult task. For Skye, any loss was just not acceptable.

 

**x-x-x**

 

_Glancing out through the window, Skye swept her gaze across the lawn of their new house. She watched with a growing smile as Vivi played on the swing set, her little legs happily kicking at the air as she drove herself higher and higher._

_Skye paused in sudden confusion, realising that she didn’t remember just how she had come to be there in that moment. Yet she dismissed the somewhat fuzzy details as she turned and scanned the kitchen, where the vague scent of fresh paint still lingered in the air._

_Shooting one final glance out at her daughter, satisfied that she was safe for the time being, Skye began to stroll around the home. She couldn’t help but feel delighted by the peaceful and cosy environment they had created for their family. Hopefully, their growing family, and she smiled to herself as she placed a hand on her abdomen. It was too soon to even take a test yet but Skye was allowing herself to be carried along on a wave of hope. For once, she enjoyed how that felt._

_As she continued to sweep her fingertips along the smooth bannister, she was forced to freeze when she was struck by a jarring pain in her back that seemed to radiate to every muscle and nerve ending in her body with enough force to make her cry out. Her heart hammered in her chest and Skye threw her head back in agony, her eyes wide as she noted her skin darkening visibly before her. She both heard and felt the bones in her body crack, twist, and bend._

_Grasping at the staircase, Skye managed to drag herself towards the hall table, which she gripped onto hard with hands that no longer resembled her own. When she stared in to the mirror hanging on the wall above, she let out a scream of despair as she found the image of a wolf peering back at her._

 

**x-x-x**

 

Shooting up in bed with her heart still pounding unrelentingly in her ears, Skye slammed her hand to her chest, gasping for air even as she tried to dismiss the terror of her nightmare.

Noting the itch plaguing her lower arm, she tore off the dressing Lincoln had applied and was relieved to see the wound had healed over. Only a pale series of scars were left in its wake, which would also most likely fade as quickly as the bite mark itself had.

Skye knew the happenings of her dream could never become reality – that that wasn’t how Inhuman powers worked. Nobody could transmit their ‘gift’ – whatever that may be – to another. However, her mind was so troubled and unsettled from the events of the mission that she wasn’t in the least surprised that her imagination had decided to go the cheap, horror movie route.

“Are you alright?” Ward asked groggily as he sat up beside her, his hair tousled from the position he had been lying in.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a funky dream. I’m okay.”

Noting movement in the doorway adjacent, Skye flicked on the light just as a tiny body hurtled full speed towards the bed. Hiccupping with the force of the tears streaming down her face, Vivi dashed towards her mother with her arms outstretched.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Skye asked, lifting her under the arms and helping her onto the bed since Vivian’s legs were still not long enough to enable her to clamber up unaided.

“Dat man…” Vivian sobbed, burying her face in her mother’s chest and clinging to the strap of her camisole with a whitened fist. “I told him to go ‘way, I said ‘no, I don’t like it’ and he didn’t go ‘way, Momma.”

“ _I don’t like it_!” she shook her head clumsily and shrugged for effect, palms turned up towards the ceiling. If she hadn’t been so obviously upset, both of her parents would have smiled in amusement at the gesture

“What don’t you like, sweetheart?” Ward demanded, his scowl deepening as he leaned forwards in the bed. The last vestiges of sleep had left him in a rush upon witnessing his daughter’s terror, and he was ready to pummel whoever had upset her into the ground if necessary. He always would be.

“Sounds like someone else had a bad dream too,” Skye whispered to her husband even as she caressed Vivian’s back. Her heart constricted at the feel of her baby girl trembling and Skye wasted no time in gathering her as close to her own body as physically possible.

“No, Mommy,” Vivi protested, scowling at her mother as she drew back from her embrace momentarily, “he came out my closet.”

Ward nodded his understanding before exchanging a glance with Skye, who felt her lips twist into a small smile. How she longed for the days of her own childish innocence, where the monsters she had feared were purely of her own imagining.

“Baby, nobody is in your closet,” Skye soothed, using the pad of her thumb to wipe the tears from Vivian’s cheeks.

“He was! He was!” the child loudly protested, flinging her lizard almost into her mother’s face, “He said I was ‘bug-rat’.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to prevent laughter overcoming her, Skye stroked Vivi’s hair and widened her eyes as she checked, “A ‘ _bugrat’_?”

“Uh-huh,” the child nodded, her lips turned down into a frown, “I said ‘no I’m not, I’m a girl!’”

The indignation that could be heard resonating in her pipey, infantile voice was both endearing and amusing. Ward chuckled discretely as he rubbed her back with one hand.

Pressing a kiss to the top of Vivi’s head, he suggested, “How about you stay here with Mommy, and I’ll go and check it out?”

“Okay, daddy,” Vivi agreed miserably, flailing back into her mother’s arms and pressing her tear-dampened cheek to her chest. Feeling the wetness of tears against her skin, Skye frowned. She circled her arms even tighter around the little girl and beginning to rock her from side to side, just as she had done when she was a baby.

Exchanging brief smiles with his wife, Ward threw back the covers and strolled into the adjoining bedroom, not expecting to find anything out of the ordinary. Having earlier discarded his t-shirt, he was clad only in black pyjama pants and so he shuddered involuntarily when a blast of icy cold air passed through him. Arms folded across his bare chest, he walked over to the radiator and then placed one hand atop the metal pipes to check the temperature. He was surprised to find them so hot given the undeniable chill that had fallen over the room. Making a mental note to speak to the maintenance staff in the morning, Grant walked back out of the room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click.

When he returned to bed, it was to Skye lying back upon the pillows on her side with Vivi clutched in her arms. The child snored peacefully against her mother’s chest, evoking memories of her infancy. Crawling back under the covers, Grant smiled as Skye reached out across their daughter and beckoned him over to them. Needing no further invitation, Ward lay down on his side and extended his arm over his two girls so that one hand could curl around Skye’s hip and his lips could crest the top of Vivian’s head. Skye placed her hand over Grant’s arm in response, and the couple shared an adoring smile, interrupted only by the snores that emanated from the toddler’s lips.

Laughing quietly, Skye tucked the covers over them, suddenly aware of how cold the room had become. Leaning over his daughter’s head, Grant inched closer and brushed his lips against his wife’s, repeating the gesture as she slid her hand up to cup his cheek.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, arching her back so that Vivian was safe and comfortable, but she could also lay her head next to Grant’s on the pillow.

“Goodnight,” he echoed as he reached up to turn off the light before returning his arm protectively around them both.

When Skye awoke the next morning, it was to the blissful weight of her child in her arms, and the loving embrace of her husband. Slowly but surely, the horrors of the previous day began to weigh less heavily on her mind.

 

**x-x-x**

 

He had always told her that the job would be the end of her, so there was at least a small part of him that hadn’t been at all surprised by the news of Emily’s death. However, surprise and devastation were not at all the same thing, so whilst he may not have been the latter, he most certainly felt the former.

He had slammed the door straight in the faces of the suit clad agents, his entire body trembling like that of an addict. Eventually, the pain had become an almost physical presence and he had dropped to his knees in the hallway, releasing a cry that sounded like a wounded animal caught in a trap. He waited for the tears to come after that but they didn’t, and he thought that he was perhaps so deeply entrenched in grief that he was beyond even that.

He would never see her again. He would never wake to her smile or her extraordinary bed-head, or feel her fingertips ghost across the bridge of his nose when he was only trying to sleep and she was instead trying to get a rise out of him. They would never again argue over how high the AC should be turned up in the car, and she would no longer beg him to make her brownies on a Sunday, only for her to grow far too impatient to wait for them to bake and to instead eat the batter direct out the bowl. She wouldn’t laugh again.

It just didn’t seem fair.

Things had been strained between them of late; Emily had taken extra missions, and he had stayed in his office on the college campus, even going so far as to sleep on the neighbouring Parapsychology professor’s couch on more than one occasion. All to avoid going home and facing each other, either in anger or, more worryingly, indifference.

Now, they would never have the chance to work through their issues together. Their problems would be buried with her, along with any opportunity they’d had for a future.

Pacing the living room of their silent home, he picked up a wad of papers that sat on the coffee table waiting to be graded, and he hurled them angrily to the ground, watching with some satisfaction as they wafted across the living room.

The act made him feel somewhat better - an outlet for his grief, which had rapidly escalated to uncontrollable rage. So, he continued on with his rampage, hurling books and ornaments from their shelves, and sweeping every item off the fire place with a swipe of his arm.

The sound of glass smashing caught his attention, and he sank to his knees as he noticed their wedding photograph at his feet. Their smiles were now hopelessly distorted by the crack in the glass. Picking the print up, he stroked shaking fingertips over Emily’s face, and then collapsed into a fit of sobs as he hugged the frame to his chest.

She was gone. A light snuffed out in mere seconds, making his world a darker place. There could be nothing worse.

As his sobs subsided a little, he withdrew the photograph from his body and laid it carefully back down on the floor in front of him. Emily had looked beautiful that day, wearing a vintage lace dress she had searched out on Craigslist with a ring of pale pink roses adorning the crown of her head. Her blonde hair had been one of the first things he had noticed about her, and loved from that very moment. It was golden and warm, and it shone in the sun like a halo framing her face. Or at least, it had. It seemed he wouldn’t even get one last chance to run his fingers through those beautiful locks; from the sounds of things, they had no choice but to opt for a closed casket funeral.

The fury he felt flooding his body, weighing down his bones, was unlike any he had ever experienced before. It seemed almost as though he could hear screaming resonating in his own mind, and whether that was simply a symptom of the madness he felt descending upon him or not he certainly didn’t know.

One thing he was sure of, however, was that he was honour and duty bound to do something. Whilst his wedding vows had suggested that his obligations would end in death, he couldn’t truly accept that. After all, his work had indicated time and time again over the years that there were more things in Heaven and Earth.

Wiping clumsily at his cheeks, where tears were descending rapidly onto the floor beneath him, he found his gaze coming to rest upon the box of articles from his department storage room that he’d been meaning to sort through. Frowning, he noted the item poking out from the top of the other objects, and he found himself suddenly motivated to walk over to the box of what Emily had called ‘junk’. Pulling the Ouija board free, he examined it for only a moment before the desperation clawing at his heart had somehow managed to all but silence his sanity.

Sinking to his knees, he began to rifle through the box, searching desperately for the planchet.

Emily may be dead and gone, but he was only just beginning to breathe life into his plan for vengeance.

 

**x-x-x**

 

Coulson peered at the three young agents seated before him, his lips twisted into a sympathetic frown as he recognised the similar expressions spread across all of their faces. Debriefings were always tedious and very often difficult to endure, but none more so than those that directly followed the loss of a colleague.

“I just need you all to turn in your reports by this evening at the latest and then we can put this matter to bed before…” Coulson swallowed hard, distress almost derailing his train of thought. Finally, he managed to choke out, “Before the uh… the funeral.”

The three agents bobbed their heads and Ward found himself reaching across the arm of his chair to offer Skye his hand. Without looking, she took it. Her fingers tangled around Grant’s and he squeezed tight to offer her the reassurance that she needed so desperately.

Although the light of day seemed to have brought with it some clarity of mind and resignation for Skye, Ward could tell that her guilt had yet to wane completely. There had been something off about his wife’s mood all day, and she had seemed to cling even closer to Vivi’s side than was usual. Mother and daughter undeniably shared an unshakeable bond, but Skye generally was an advocate of allowing the little girl to explore and experience things for herself, where possible. Today though, Skye had instead insisted on trailing her daughter everywhere with her, refusing offers from both Lincoln and Fitz to occupy the child for a while so that she could catch up on work, or take a shower in peace.

Although Ward enjoyed being a hands-on father, and spent as much time with his family as their work allowed, his training sessions with their new recruits had taken up more of his day than he’d liked. So, Skye had been left to parenting duties by herself when, given what had transpired just the previous day, Ward would have preferred that they spend the day together.

His mood had soured even further when Coulson had asked him to accompany a strike team on a mission that evening. They were apparently short a Specialist and so his non-Inhuman skill set was required. He’d been promised it was a simple in and out job with little potential risk, but Skye’s nerves – having been set on edge already by their mission the day before – had made her uncharacteristically anxious at the idea.

Glancing over to where Vivi sat on the floor, crayons and paper spread out before her, Coulson decided it was time to bring the meeting to a close. “Alright, so… that’s it, I guess. Grant, can I speak to you for a moment, please?”

Ward nodded but his attention was on Skye as she walked over to their daughter and sat down on the floor beside her. She picked up a crayon and soon joined the toddler in colouring – or in Vivian’s case – scribbling, over the images of princesses and castles that Jemma had printed off for her.

Gesturing discretely to Skye, Coulson lowered his voice as he probed, “Skye… is she okay? She seems… not herself.”

Ward arched an eyebrow, pleased at least to hear Skye start to laugh as Vivi deposited herself on her lap.

“She watched a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent have her throat ripped out by a half-woman-half-wolf that Hydra created… that’s bound to mess with anybody’s head, Coulson. And, you know Skye. She blames herself. She’s team leader, so she thinks she let Forbes down.”

 “We’d all have made the same call, Grant. As awful as it is to admit. If she needs anything, I’m always here… even if it’s just to talk, shoot the breeze, eat our way through a kilo of Twizzlers… whatever.”

 

The smile Ward flashed Coulson in response was genuine. It had certainly come as a surprise to him that his relationship with the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had been salvageable, and even more stunning that it had actually formed into something resembling a familial bond. At one point in time Coulson had hated him, perhaps justifiably, but somewhere along the road something had changed, and he had opted to give Grant the second chance that he had advocated for everyone else. Ward would never stop being grateful for that.

“Thank you, sir,” he murmured, his gaze returning to Skye and his daughter, who were busily packing away the colouring supplies as they prepared to leave the office.

“I’m sorry about the mission tonight, but if it’s any consolation Lincoln and Hunter have agreed to cover your classes tomorrow. Take the day off, spend some time together,” Coulson suggested, reaching out and patting Ward on the shoulder.

Ward nodded, about to reply when Vivian raced across the room, her arms outstretched in a bid for him to pick her up – which of course he did. As formidable as the Specialist was in the field, and perhaps even in the classroom, he was a push-over when it came to his daughter.

“Daddy!” she squealed with delight, giggling as Coulson pulled faces at her and then patted her back gently before beating a hasty retreat to allow the family some privacy; even if that meant vacating his own office.

“So… you got time for ‘dinner with the fam’ before you go?” Skye asked, pulling the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands as she ambled over to join her husband. Her attempt at a joke faltered somewhat due to her overtly anxious posture. She hated feeling that way but, having done nothing all day but linger on the heartbreak Agent Forbes’ husband must be experiencing, she was suddenly acutely aware of just how dangerous their jobs truly were. She knew these feelings would pass in time since there had been occasions in the past where failed missions or unanticipated situations in the field had bothered her for days afterwards. But Skye couldn’t help but wonder if her guilt in this instance would ever truly abate.

“Let’s go out for dinner, just the three of us,” Ward suggested, leaning down and pressing an encouraging kiss to her forehead.

A smile tugged at her lips and she stepped into his embrace. Ward held Vivi tight with one arm but he used the other to draw Skye close.

“Do you have time? I thought May said wheels up at 1900?”

“We’ve got a couple of hours.” He held her gaze, trying his best to summon up his most persuasive and charming smile. “Come on, a little time off base will do us all some good.”

Arching an eyebrow and planting her hand on his chest, Skye rolled her eyes at his well-rehearsed routine. In fairness, it was a routine that held a pretty good success rate where she was concerned. It was certainly a tactic that Vivi was all too quickly picking up.

“You can put that face away, Grant. The last time you looked at me like that I wound up pregnant.”

Winking at her mischievously, Ward looked her up and down before he declared, “Well, let me get back from Coulson’s mission and I’ll see what I can do later.”

His tone growing suddenly serious again, he cocked his head as he encouraged, “Come on, baby. What do you say?”

Laughing at his grin – the same one she assumed had charmed the secrets out of many women over the years – Skye rolled her eyes as she relented, “Okay. That sounds nice.”

Ward, pleased that his efforts had paid off, only smiled wider. He desperately wanted to cheer his wife up, and he knew spending time away from S.H.I.E.L.D. may be just what she needed. And, of course, there was that little surf and turf restaurant he’d been dying to try out.

“Just need to pick up my wallet…” he began, already inching towards the door.

“And Louis!” Vivian interjected, loathed to leave her best friend behind even for a few hours.

“And Louis,” Ward added, “then we can get out of here.”

Bending his head to receive the kiss Skye proffered in his direction, he added playfully but quietly so that Vivi would not overhear, “And I always look at you like that.”

Skye’s features lit up and she nodded, her expression morphing into one that was almost as mischievous as his. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it, Grant.”

“Where we goin’, Daddy?” Vivian enquired, her arms looped around Grant’s neck firmly.

“We’re going to get dinner. You hungry, Viv?” he asked, shifting her to his hip so he could clasp Skye’s hand in his own.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded her head vigorously, stifling a yawn in case her parents saw it and suggested a nap in the car might be a prudent idea. Naps were for losers, as far as Vivian Ward was concerned.

“She’s always hungry,” Skye chuckled, rolling her eyes in amusement at their daughter’s voracious appetite. Suddenly, she found herself looking forward to spending time off base and being nothing but a regular family for a couple of hours. It was an opportunity so rarely afforded to them these days.

Grinning down at his wife, Ward squeezed her hand as he replied in ready agreement, “She is her mother’s daughter.”

He barely managed to dodge the playful slap that Skye aimed at him in response. It appeared she had finally compromised his abilities as an agent.

 

**x-x-x**

 

_The sound of crying was what wrenched Skye from her slumber, and she found herself stumbling from bed with her hands outstretched to prevent herself from falling flat on her face. It took her several seconds to get her bearings but once she had, she was moving with speed into the corridor, seeking out the source of the pathetic wails. The tiles were unpleasantly cold under her bare feet yet Skye hardly noticed at all. Something about those frenzied screams was familiar, and she couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that someone she loved a great deal was in imminent danger._

_She cocked her head in the middle of the hallway, doing her best to discern from behind which closed door the cries emanated. For just a moment the hall seemed to stretch endlessly on in front of her and Skye began to despair that she would never reach her destination. However, the wails reached a fever pitch and she realised that the third door from the left was the one she needed to head for._

_She broke into a run, suddenly fuelled by a sense of desperation that was making it hard for her to catch her breath. Her heart thundered rather than beat, but Skye ignored all feelings of discomfort, instead focusing on what needed to be done. She pushed through the swinging doors with both arms raised in front of her, and stopped abruptly when her eyes fell on the two rows of mahogany cribs positioned in the centre of the room. She knew this place well._

_Frantically searching each of the cribs with her gaze, she was surprised to find them all empty. That was, until she reached the final cradle in the row, from which a familiar little face greeted her, scrunched up in despair. The baby let out a subsequent cry and Skye’s heart seized._

_“Vivi?” she gasped, shaking her head at the incomprehensible situation. She didn’t understand how she’d ended up back there – back in St. Agnes’ - or just why her baby daughter was lying in one of their cribs, alone and afraid._

_“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m here,” she soothed, reaching down with splayed fingers to stroke the infant’s dark hair. Vivian ceased her wails, snuffling fitfully as she regarded Skye with an intense brown-eyed stare of recognition._

_“Let’s get you out of here,” Skye decided hurriedly, reaching in to pick up the baby, but stumbling as she found herself unable to grasp the child in her arms. It was almost as if Vivian was literally slipping through her fingers every time she attempted to find purchase on her body._

_The heavy wooden doors of the nursery swung open and Skye started. She turned just in time to watch a nun walk in slowly, accompanied by a well-dressed couple who peered almost with hope around the stark room._

_“Here she is,” the nun gestured to the cradle, not even acknowledging Skye’s presence as she placed her hands onto the edges of the crib. She gestured down to the chubby, dark haired infant, her eyes locked on the couple._

_“What? No!” Skye shouted, realising instantly what was happening, “get away from her!”_

_The woman stood by the nun’s side, gazing down almost lovingly at the child she apparently hoped to parent._

_“She’s beautiful…” Glancing up at the nun, she asked hesitantly, “But what happened to her parents?”_

_The other woman dug her hands into the pockets of her habit and let out a sad sigh that rattled her old bones._

_“Both dead, I’m afraid. This poor little girl is all alone in the world.”_

_The adoptive mother reached down with obvious uncertainty and began to stroke the baby’s downy hair. She was oblivious to Skye, who swiped at her angrily even whilst she shouted at all three to leave her daughter alone._

_“That’s my baby,” she screamed in protest, eyes wide in terror as the woman picked the child up, and pressed her to her chest. She began to rub her back to soothe her grizzles, although Vivi continued to rail in protest against the presence of the stranger whose arms she found herself within._

_Skye’s empty arms physically ached, as though craving the weight of the infant, who was being carried further and further away from her. Skye shook her head in desperation, still struggling to capture the attention of the group._

_“Please…” she hissed, desperation making her wild as she continued to swing her balled fists at the couple, just hoping to garner someone’s attention. However, nobody appeared to so much as sense anything amiss, and the woman and man were soon walking from the room with a tiny, whining Vivian held snugly in their arms._

 

**x-x-x**

 

“No!”

Skye awoke with her scream dying on her lips and she immediately felt foolish. She found herself sitting upright in her bed, the covers tangled at her feet and the pillow drenched with sweat. From the nightstand at her side, her phone trilled once more, alerting her to the fact that she had received a message.

Skye swore under her breath and pressed a hand to her chest to measure the rhythm of her heart, which thumped madly against her ribcage as though it might tear out of her body at any given second.

The sound of soft snuffling at her side drew Skye’s attention and she peered down at the space beside her, where Vivian Ward lay, innocent and peaceful in slumber. Louis perched on the pillow at the child’s head, and she wore another of her much-adored princess nightgowns. Skye breathed out her relief and took just a moment to rest a hand on Vivian’s arm, mostly to test the reality of the situation.

Instantly irritated with her own subconscious, Skye leaned over and adjusted the covers around the toddler’s back before bending to press a lingering kiss to her temple. Vivian had been too afraid to sleep alone that night following her nightmare about her nocturnal, closet dwelling visitor, and it hadn’t taken much to persuade Skye to allow the child to snuggle down in her parents’ bed rather than her own. When Ward arrived home, he would gently scoop her up and place her in her own room, and Vivi would be none the wiser until she awoke the next morning. For now though, she would remain by Skye’s side, where she belonged, and where the monsters of the previous evening could never hope to reach her.

“Baby, Mommy’s losing her God damn mind,” Skye griped under her breath. She ran one hand over her clammy face and pushed her long hair back off her forehead. Quickly, she plucked her phone from the nightstand and swiped her thumb across the screen, a smile instantly settling on her lips as she saw that the text she had received was from her husband.

_‘On my way back to base. I love you.’_

After tapping out her reply, Skye pressed the ‘send’ icon before replacing the call on the nightstand where it stood to charge.

Skye was rapidly losing patience with the anxiety that seemed to have taken a hold of her since their almost botched rescue mission, but Ward had indeed been right in his estimation; getting out and leaving the base had been the best thing for her, and they’d had a lovely evening together as a family. Skye had felt lighter and more refreshed, and her latest nightmare was rapidly becoming little more than a dim annoyance to her where her dream from the previous night had haunted her long into the next day.

Skye had experienced the nightmare about St. Agnes’ over and over again during her pregnancy, and it hadn’t stopped until Vivian was almost a year old. She had no intention of letting it worm its way into her subconscious again. Not when she had worked so hard to banish it in the first place. She told herself that she and Grant would never, ever leave their daughter, and so those fears were so unfounded that they were almost laughable.

“Get your shit together, Skye,” she groaned with the barest shake of her head. Grant would be home soon, and then everything would feel somehow far less scary.

Forcing herself to relax, Skye leaned up on her elbow to turn off the light, plunging the small bedroom back into darkness. Determined to be stern with herself, Skye nestled back against her pillows, trying to ignore the way that the patches of her own sweat that clung to them made the fabric feel damp against her bare shoulder. She forced her eyes closed and took several seconds just to focus on her breathing. In, out, steady and slow, until the pulsing of her heart had returned to a more normal pace. Finally, the room was again quiet and pitch black, and Skye began to clear her mind so that she could meet sleep head on.

The sudden chill that wrapped around her body caused Skye to shiver, and she cracked open her eyes once more to check that the covers were properly arranged around Vivian. When she was satisfied, she made a mental note to raise the fluctuating temperatures in their bunks with maintenance come morning, and she allowed her eyelids to flutter closed again.

A rustling at the foot of the bed was what finally turned her blood to ice in her veins.

Skye kept her eyes screwed tight closed, knowing that her ears and mind were more than likely working in tandem now to taunt her. She was tired, she was emotional, and she was overreacting. She managed to convince herself of all these things for precisely twenty-six seconds, before the sound of the sheets rustling again disturbed her thoughts.

She was successful in resisting the urge to hold her breath, and she instead reached out blindly for her daughter’s body. She found the child lying completely still, curled into a tight ball, but she reasoned that that wasn’t to say that Vivi had not been the source of the strange noises.  

However, it was when the mattress at the foot of the bed suddenly dipped as though subjected to a significant weight that Skye was forced to confront reality. She had barely begun to crack her eyes open when something that resembled long, tapered fingers fastened around her right ankle.

_“She’s beautiful.”_

The female voice stopped Skye in her tracks.

With wide, horrified eyes, Skye turned away from Vivi to the source of the intrusion.

Her hand flew to her mouth and she gasped in shock, blinking rapidly to try to drive the spectre form her sights. Yet no matter how much she rubbed at her eyes with balled fists, or how hard she pinched the most painful part of her own arm, the pale, scarred and smiling face of Jiaying still peered back at her from where she sat at the edge of the bed. One hand was folded neatly in her lap, the other caressed Skye’s ankle as though she had suddenly learned the meaning of tenderness in death.

“Hello, Daisy,” she whispered, her milky eyes two terrifying beacons in the darkness, “I’ve missed you so much.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**“I’ve Grown Familiar with Villains that Live in my Head”**

**Three**

**x-x-x**

 

“ _You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real_.”

Skye whispered the mantra over and over, her eyes never wavering from the figure of the woman, who appeared slightly translucent in the darkness. Snapping on the bedside light, momentarily forgetting about Vivi’s presence, Skye leaped out of the bed. Jiaying remained unmoving, the same steady and vaguely patient smile spread across her lips. They were blue, Skye realised, and a shudder wracked her entire body.

“You’re. Not. Real,” she ground out, her teeth clenched so tightly together that her jaw actually began to ache. Testing her theory, she glanced down at the palm of her right hand before sinking the nails of her left into it hard and fast. She winced at the discomfort and Jiaying made a tutting noise low in her throat.

“Daisy, you’ll hurt yourself!” she chided, her milky-white eyes sweeping the figure of her daughter as though she was genuinely concerned.

Running her hand through her hair and blowing out slow, steady breaths, Skye shook her head. “No. You… you’re dead. You’re not really here. This is all in my head. It has to be.”

Apparently growing tired of Skye’s refusal to believe that Jiaying was really addressing her daughter from the deepest, perhaps darkest, realms of the afterlife, she sighed and gestured to the bed.

“Sit down, Daisy. There are some things I must tell you. Things you must hear.”

Jiaying’s grotesquely deformed gaze suddenly rested on Vivian, and she smiled again as she watched her granddaughter sleep for a moment. “Perhaps this is what you looked like at her age.”

Moving rapidly to stand at the side of the bed where Vivian slept – blissfully unaware of the intrusion – Skye glared with unchecked rage at her deceased mother.

“Usually the kind of thing moms know, right? Stay the fuck away from my daughter.”

Jiaying nodded, her smile growing wry and apparently thoughtful. “For years I mourned your loss. But then I came to realise, perhaps it was for the best. I don’t think I was really ever suited to motherhood. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you know.”

Widening her eyes and huffing out a laugh of indignance, Skye levelled an amused glare at Jiaying. “You’re critiquing _my_ parenting skills? The woman who tried to kill her own child?”

Tossing her head in disbelief, Skye suddenly caught herself, “You’re not even real, what the Hell am I doing?! I’m actually losing my mind.”

The sigh Jiaying puffed out was actually accompanied by an eyeroll, and Skye would have felt compelled to punch the woman, had she been at all convinced that she was real in the first place. She had never believed in ghosts or spirits or anything supernatural beyond powered people, and she wasn’t about to change her mind on the matter now. In twenty-seven years she had not received a shred of evidence to convince her otherwise. Jiaying’s appearance now would not be the catalyst for her belief, since Skye was certain that the vision she was experiencing was a product of a recently troubled mind.

“You’re not losing your mind,” Jiaying countered, climbing to her feet and folding her arms as she regarded her daughter. Skye raked two hands through her hair, feeling sick to the depths of her stomach as she considered the fact that Lincoln had perhaps been right; the stress from the previous evening was just too much, and it was manifesting itself now in a hallucination that her guilty conscience intended to torment her with.

“I need… I need to go see Lincoln, I…” Skye began to stammer, her eyes ticking back to Vivian as she realised that that would be an impossible task, at least until Grant returned. She could not leave her daughter unattended.

“I could stay with her,” Jiaying offered, her lips twisting into a sinister pose that didn’t even resemble a grin, “I’m never far away.”

“You’re not really here. This isn’t happening,” Skye echoed, although despite her own insistence that it was all a hallucination – possibly even due to sleep deprivation – she made sure to remain at her daughter’s side.

“Where’s her father?” Jiaying’s expression instantly changed to one of distaste. She hadn’t been remotely fond of Grant Ward when he had arrived in Afterlife in pursuit of his girlfriend; in fact, it had been his ever-watchful presence that had ruined her plans to successfully court her daughter’s trust and loyalty. “I have to admit, Daisy, I’m disappointed you decided to marry him. Inhuman or not, he was fuelled by rage, distrust, pain. Do you think that will remain buried beneath the surface forever? You think he won’t become like his parents any more than you won’t become like yours?”

Skye’s expression was appalled, and anger coursed through her as she lifted her head to regard the insolent spectre.

“How dare you! I am not like you. And Grant is the best father my little girl could ever have had. There is _nothing_ we wouldn’t do for her.” She shook her head wildly, “You talk about family like you even know what it means. You left me, you destroyed my father’s life, you _broke_ him. You know that, right? And he loved you too much to see what you really were.”

Jiaying lifted her hands as if dismissing every point Daisy had levelled at her. “Just as you will break their hearts, Daisy. Your husband’s… your daughter’s. It’s why I came here. To warn you. You cannot escape who you really are. I know what’s in your heart. You didn’t even want this child. I know she was a mistake.”

Skye’s eyes widened, angry tears stinging them, and she wiped clumsily at her cheek as she placed a gentle hand in the centre of the toddler’s back. “I loved her before she was even born. I’m her _mother_. That might mean shit to you, but it’s everything to me.”

Closing her eyes, Skye began repeating, “This isn’t real. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head.”

Of course, the possible implications of it being ‘all in her head’ were almost as terrifying as the prospect that her dead mother’s ghost was speaking to her.

“I know I made a lot of mistakes in my life,” Jiaying began, pausing for just a moment, giving Skye some false hope perhaps that she was poised to admit her sins as a mother as well as her sins as a woman, “but I also did a lot of good.”

“On what twisted planet?” demanded Skye in a snarl that was so loud that it had Vivi turning over restlessly in her sleep. Skye swallowed down her rage and sank onto the mattress by Vivian’s side.

“I united our people, gave them sanctuary and safety when the rest of the world would have seen them locked away like a bunch of sideshow freaks,” Jiaying stated, her self-belief in her own words ringing out in her confident tone, “I couldn’t see S.H.I.E.L.D. jeopardise that and harm those I had worked so hard to protect. I know you will never forgive me, Daisy, but I couldn’t allow my love for you to cloud my judgment. I did what a true leader would do and I put my people before my own family.”

“You never loved me,” Skye spat, tears beginning to leak from the corners of her eyes, despite her best and valiant attempts to choke down her sorrow.

“I never stopped loving you,” replied Jiaying, and she reached out a hand to touch Skye’s cheek. When her fingers connected with Skye’s skin, she felt chilled to the very bone with such cold that her breath stuck in her throat.

“Even when you were choking the life of out me?” demanded Skye bitterly, eyes flickering closed for just a moment.

“Even when your father was squeezing the life out of _me_ ,” Jiaying countered, leaning forwards. Her breath carried the stench of death on it, and Skye fought the urge to gag as Jiaying continued in a whisper, “Even when I felt my bones breaking and my blood leaking out of my veins. Right up until the moment my heart exploded from the pressure.”

“Don’t touch me,” Daisy spat, reeling back and leaning over her own daughter to keep Jiaying from doing the same to her child. “I’m gonna close my eyes, count to ten, and when I open them again you’ll be gone.”

Skye could only hope her own subconscious would adhere to her demands, and the entire hallucination would be over as she commanded. Vivian shivered beneath her arm, and Skye frowned as she ran her hand over the little girl’s cheek and found her freezing cold. Both of their breaths drifted from their mouths in puffs of white. The entire room had seemed to descend into sub-zero temperatures.

“Come here, baby,” Skye soothed, carefully lifting the toddler up and positioning her in her arms. Vivian’s eyes flickered open for only a second before she sighed contentedly and nestled into her mother’s chest. Skye pulled the knitted throw from the base of the bed and wrapped it around the child, rubbing the tops of her arms vigorously. She felt ever so slightly better with the weight of her baby against her chest.

“If you leave now, Skye, you’ll save them both a lifetime of heartache. Admit who you are, what you are, and they needn’t suffer. You and I can be together again, as it was always meant to be.”

Closing her eyes and leaning back against the headboard as she clutched Vivi close, Skye shook her head. She did her best to take slow, calming breaths as she continued to touch the toddler’s back, perhaps in an attempt to comfort herself rather than the snoring child.

“I’m exactly where I belong.”

Jiaying shook her head sadly and took a step backwards, away from the bed. Skye couldn’t breathe any easier even with the added distance between them, and she doubted she would for the rest of the night. She yearned for Ward to walk through the door at any moment, straight through the illusion that seemed bent on driving her mad. But he didn’t, and Skye was left to face her demons alone.

“No, not yet, sweetheart,” Jiaying murmured, hands sliding into the pockets of her traditional dress once again. With an almost motherly smile, she finished on a whisper, “But soon. Very soon.”

The cold lifted from the room as quickly as it had descended, and Skye found herself blinking at nothing again. Jiaying was gone. The bedroom was empty once more, save for herself and Vivian, who relaxed in her arms again as warmth flooded their bodies now that the chill in the air had dissipated.

It took a further hour for exhaustion to eventually overcome Skye and so, thanks to an unforeseen delay, when Ward returned to their quarters it was to find his wife and daughter cuddled tightly together, both asleep. Curiously though, the bedside lamp was still on, and Ward wondered if perhaps Vivian had been having a bad night.

Having already showered and changed in the locker rooms to avoid disturbing his wife, Ward brushed his teeth and stripped down for bed. He smiled to himself when he found that he had to lie on his side and curl his body behind Skye’s in order to fit on the mattress. They most definitely needed a bigger bed when they moved into their own home.

Skye’s eyes snapped open at the sensation of movement, but she was instantly soothed by the familiar sensation of her husband draping his arm around her hips. He rested his hand on Vivian’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to Skye’s lips as soon as she turned to face him.

“Everything okay?”

Skye nodded, unwilling to even begin a conversation that would either imply she was going insane, or that her dead mother was haunting them. For the time being at least everything was fine; Grant was home, and suddenly things seemed a loss less frightening.

“I just didn’t want to leave her alone tonight,” Skye whispered, closing her eyes as Ward kissed her cheek. The scent of his skin was soothing to her frayed nerves and the feel of his stubble rubbing against her was grounding.

“So, we won’t,” he replied softly, encircling them both with one arm as he pressed up against his wife and drew the covers over them. A sudden chill sent a shiver down his spine and Ward frowned.

“It’s freezing in here,” he whispered, trying not to disturb Vivian.

Skye murmured in agreement, finding herself contemplating the reason for the sudden chill descending upon their quarters. She’d watched enough horror movies to know the potential cause.

“Goodnight, baby,” Ward nuzzled against her neck, smiling into her skin as Skye lifted his hand to her face and kissed his palm in response.

After the exertion of the mission – that had turned into more of a confrontation than Ward had been led to believe – sleep soon found the exhausted Specialist.

But as he drifted off, a familiar yet long forgotten scent permeated the bedroom; it took a few moments for him to recall where he remembered the sickly-sweet smell of incense from, but slowly the memories came flooding back.

As he fell into a deep sleep, it was with visions of Afterlife flickering through his tired mind.

**x-x-x**

Her hands tightened around the warm mug of coffee, which she was aware she had added far too much sugar to. However, Ward had woken early that morning and taken charge of Vivian, allowing Skye to sleep in. Therefore, he was currently swimming with the little girl in the gymnasium pool and thus not around to chide her for being unhealthy.

Skye continued to stare off into space, completely lost in thought and oblivious to the chatter around her. Simmons sat at her side, buttering toast and enthusing about the new bedsheets she and Fitz had purchased at Target. Bobbi sat opposite them both, nodding at intervals to Jemma as she demolished her bowl of chocolate rice puffs. It turned out that Skye had discovered an unlikely junk food kindred spirit in Agent Morse, much to her relief. Even Simmons had a tendency to attempt to force her into eating vegetables at sporadic intervals.

“Skye, did you hear what I said?” Jemma asked, tilting her head as she surveyed her best friend, who visibly started before affixing Simmons with a wide-eyed stare.

“What?” Skye mumbled, rubbing at her eyes, which she knew from peering in the mirror earlier were rimmed with dark circles that suggested just how little sleep she had managed. There had been no more nightmares to plague her but Skye had slept uncharacteristically lightly, so that even the slightest noise in the room had wrenched her from slumber with a pounding heart.

“You look tired,” Jemma said kindly, reaching across the table and squeezing Skye’s hand, “are you alright?”

“I’m just not sleeping so well right now,” Skye vaguely answered. She just managed to stifle a yawn but she could not dismiss the feeling of utterly bone-weary exhaustion that almost smothered her.

Aware of the less pleasant details of the mission a couple of days before, Simmons exchanged pointed glances with Bobbi and then shot her friend a sympathetic smile.

“Just give it time, eh?” she advised, “we’d all have done the same thing, Skye. Every one of us.”

Nodding her head reluctantly, Skye took a sip of her coffee. “Yeah. It’s just… doesn’t make it any easier, you know?!”

Placing her mug down on the table, Skye began to shift it around distractedly, feeling slightly self-conscious about the question she was poised to ask. For some reason, that morning Jiaying’s words had stung more than she’d acknowledged the night before.

“Do you… do you think Vivi’s happy? Like… do you think she has everything she needs?” Skye kept her eyes trained on the table and so she wasn’t aware of the incredulous glance Jemma shot her. “I never had a family, neither did Grant, so… we’re kind of bluffing our way through this parenting thing.”

“Why ever would you ask such a thing?” Jemma demanded, pushing aside her plate of toast and leaning forwards to tangle her fingers with Skye’s. Try as she may though, she absolutely could not encourage the other woman to meet her gaze, and Jemma suspected that perhaps Skye found herself on the verge of tears.

“Vivian is the happiest kid I’ve ever seen,” Bobbi said, her tone warm and a smile on her lips as she thought about the little girl, who never failed to make her laugh. She wasn’t usually one for children, given the fact she already had Hunter to contend with, but Vivi Ward was enough to actually almost make her contemplate one day having a baby of her own.

“That little girl adores you both, Skye,” Jemma stated with obvious confidence, “I must admit that when you found out you were expecting, I had my reservations about Ward, but I have absolutely been proven wrong. You are wonderful parents, and I don’t want to hear any more of this insanity.”

“Or we’ll kick your ass,” Bobbi added, turning to glance behind her at the doorway as she noted the sound of someone else striding into the kitchen. May shot the women a brief look and an even quicker smile before she busied herself with putting on another pot of coffee. She worked in silence, sensing that the mood in the room was perhaps a little less than ideal.

“Give it a few more days,” Simmons suggested, dropping her voice to a murmur as she added, “and if you’re still having trouble sleeping, come and see me. I can sort out a prescription for…”

“No,” Skye said sharply, finally consenting to look at Jemma, who seemed taken aback by her friend’s vehemence on the subject. “No drugs. I’m not crazy.”

But are you? Skye couldn’t help but wonder, as images of Jiaying’s half-decomposing face filled up her mind.

“I just…” Skye began, knowing in her heart of hearts that what both women had said was true. Her daughter was a bright and healthy toddler, who had never known anything but love from her parents from the moment she’d taken her first breath. Their family was happy, and there wasn’t a day that went by when either Ward or Skye weren’t grateful to wake up to each other, or that their beautiful brown-eyed little girl had come into their world.

“I don’t know, I know it all sounds stupid, I’m just so tired. And I…” Skye lifter her head with a faint smile to seek out the understanding expression she just knew would be plastered over the Brit’s features.

Except when Skye looked up, it wasn’t Jemma’s face that met her eyes, but the silently screaming face of Emily Forbes. Eyes large and stricken in horror, and blood gashing from an ugly wound to her neck, Emily’s image flickered for only a moment before vanishing into the ether.

Gasping, Skye dropped her mug against the table, where it shattered on impact, raining coffee and china onto the floor. Pushing back her chair and standing up in less than a second, Skye tried to catch her breath.

“Skye? What is it? What’s wrong?” Jemma asked, all three women looking at each other in confusion as Skye bolted from the room as though it was on fire.

Both Bobbi and Jemma stood to follow but were soon stopped in their tracks by May, who hurried past them.

“I’ll go. Wait here.” She barked her orders and was immediately pleased to see them both sit down.

May halted for a moment in the doorway and peered back towards the table, feeling a tingle shoot up her spine and a sense of unease fall over her that she had only ever experienced once before in her life.

Frowning in contemplation, May followed after the young S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, wondering if she perhaps already knew what troubled her.

**x-x-x**

The door slammed closed behind Skye as she raced into her bedroom, simultaneously panting and crying. She almost let out a wail when she realised that her breath was once again escaping her in white smoky puffs, and the window was clouded over with condensation.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, pressing her back to the door and sliding down it until she sat in a heap on the carpet. She raised her knees and buried her face into them, shoulders trembling when she experienced that icy touch again, this time grazing the back of her neck.

“My poor Daisy,” Jiaying whispered, so close that Skye was surprised her lips were not brushing against her earlobe.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Skye sobbed, shaking her head as she peered up into the eyes of the woman. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Shhh,” Jiaying soothed, looking at her with her own brand of concern, “I can take care of you. You need me. It would be so easy, Daisy. So easy for us to be together again…”

Suddenly freezing, Skye looked up at the phantom askance; her words, her ploys to convince Skye that her family would be better off without her, all made sense in that moment.

Laughing softly, Skye stood up, her back straight and her gaze unflinching as she snarled, “You think I’d do that? That I’d do that to Grant? To my daughter? I love my life. I’ve had to fight for everything I’ve got and I’m never letting it go. So if you want me dead, _Mom_ , you’ll have to kill me yourself. Get the fuck out of my room and go back to Hell.”

A sudden pounding on the door caused both women’s heads to turn, and as the noise grew more insistent, Jiaying disappeared, leaving Skye alone to calm the trembling that had overcome her.

Stalking over to the bedroom door, Skye threw it open, surprised to find May on the other side. Her expression was impassive as always.

“I know what’s been keeping you awake. And you and I are going to deal with it.”

Stepping back to allow May inside, Skye shrugged helplessly, “The fact I’m slowly losing my mind and seeing things that aren’t there?”

Feeling the same bone-chilling cold from the breakfast room settle over her, May folded her arms across her chest. “Stop bullshitting me, Skye. You’re no crazier than I am, and we both know it. So… talk to me. And then we’ll figure out how to fix this.”

Skye let out a defeated sigh and closed the door, reluctant to allow anyone passing in the corridor to overhear what she was about to say. She hadn’t truly accepted it herself – the fact that she was being visited by her dead mother – and there was still a rather hefty part of her that believed she was just in fact spiralling into complete madness.

“I started having nightmares, after Agent Forbes…” Skye said quietly and in a more subdued tone than May was used to. Clasping her hands behind her back, May peered expectantly at Skye, waiting for her to continue.

“I thought it was just stress,” Skye explained with a shrug, “but then last night, when Ward was on that mission…”

May cocked her head, already knowing at least in part what Skye was poised to admit. However, the Inhuman shook her head hard and all but flung herself backwards on the bed, lying with her arms spread out above her head over the duvet.

“Maybe I should take Simmons up on the pills offer,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t you dare,” May snapped, taking a step towards Skye and gently slapping her right foot. Taking the hint, Skye moved her leg over to allow May to sink down on to the bed with her.

“Who did you see?” the older woman asked, her voice gentle as she reached out and brushed a wisp of hair from Skye’s eyes. Her touch was soft and warm, in complete contrast to Jiaying’s, and Skye had to draw a deep breath to prevent from dissolving into tears again. She had often wondered why someone like May couldn’t have been her mother instead, but then she supposed that if that were the case, she would never have become the person she was today. Perhaps ‘Skye’ as everyone knew her would not exist at all.

“My mother,” Skye mumbled, averting her gaze as though she were ashamed by her admission. May didn’t seem at all surprised, for her part.

“I believe you,” she offered, and she patted Skye’s cheek affectionately, like she had often imagined her own mom might have done, had she not turned out to be a monster.

“Believe I’m crazy?” pressed Skye. Her eyes were filled with such fear and desperation that May felt anger surge inside of her.

Shooting Skye a thoroughly irritated glare, May rolled her eyes as though the suggestion was ludicrous.

“What does she want with you? I assume this isn’t a social call.”

Still slightly incredulous by the fact that May believed her, Skye picked up one of the throw cushions on the bed and hugged it to her chest.

Toying with the corner of the pillow, she asked uncertainly, “Why do you believe in that stuff, anyway? You don’t strike me as the type to swallow that kind of crap. I know Coulson’s into it, but you… it seems… you know, unlikely.”

May paused, reminded of one particular tale that Coulson had told her in private quite some time ago; of how there had been a world where Grant Ward had never been given a second chance, where he and Skye were dead, and where the love and light that were so readily felt across the base were absent. It was a world Coulson had not wanted to live in and so, guided by the three spirits he had encountered, he made one change. One decision that had so greatly impacted all of their lives. He had given Ward the second chance he deserved. And the young Specialist had more than proven his worth, becoming one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s biggest assets and most loyal agents. But more importantly, he’d become the man he was always intended to be; an adoring husband, and a doting father.

Whilst May’s previous experience and Coulson’s impassioned testimony had made her a believer of his tale, she didn’t feel it the right occasion to bestow Skye with such knowledge, especially given her fragile mental state. Thinking about a world where the man she loved didn’t exist and where her daughter could never be born was probably not something the young woman could handle in that moment.

“When I was a little girl, we moved into an old apartment above a shop in China Town. Back then we didn’t have much money, and there were a couple of other families in the same building. Things got pretty crowded. So sometimes I’d go and sit in the back of my uncle’s store, and I don’t know… find things to do that wouldn’t annoy the adults.” May’s raised eyebrows indicated that that had apparently not been a difficult feat. “But this one lady, this… kind, softly spoken old lady used to come and sit with me. We’d talk about all kinds of things, and she’d tell me stories about the old country. She had this scar on her hand…”

May pointed to the back of her own hand before she continued, “She was pretty much the only friend I had for the first few weeks we moved into the neighbourhood.”

Glancing up at Skye, she noted how the younger woman was hanging on her every word, and she stifled a smile.

“One day my uncle heard me talking and he asked who I was speaking to… so I told him. I described this old woman, right down to the scar on her hand,” pausing to make sure Skye realised the importance of her next few sentences, she continued, “and he told me it was my grandmother. Only, she’d died twenty years before I was born. After that, I guess it’d be hard not to be a believer. I stopped seeing her a little while after but I’ve never forgotten. There are things in this world that we can’t explain, Skye. So, do I believe your mother is visiting you? Absolutely. Do I think what she’s telling you is the truth? Not if that bullshit you asked Jemma and Bobbi about is any indication. So… I think it’s about time you told someone what’s really going on here.”

“Not Ward,” Skye protested, shaking her head vehemently, “he’d think I was insane.”

“Maybe,” May admonished, “but we already know that I don’t.”

Skye considered this for just a moment before raising her hand to her mouth and beginning to nibble at her fingernails. It was a bad habit that dated back to her teenage years, which she had managed to kick a while ago, save for in times of great stress. Such as when her own mother returned from the grave to try to encourage her to abandon her family.

“She told me that I’m no good for them,” Skye revealed, a sigh leaving her lips, “she said that I’m just like her and… that all I will ever do is hurt them.”

“Grant and Vivi?” May asked in obvious disbelief. She could hardly have believed the audacity of Jiaying in life but it appeared that, in death, the woman’s gall had increased tenfold.

Skye just nodded her head, forcing herself to pull her near ruined nails from her teeth before she bit down to the skin.

“She said I should go away, leave them,” Skye murmured, her voice adopting an almost far off quality as her gaze wandered around the room that had served as her family’s home for almost five years.

“Go away?” May repeated, a chill beginning to weave its way around the base of her spine as she queried the meaning behind Skye’s words. She thought that she might be able to guess what Jiaying had meant, but she hoped that she was wrong.

“You know what she means, May,” Skye said quietly, twisting her wedding ring around her finger as she was prone to do when anxious about something.

Jaw tensed and teeth gritted, May scoured the room, hoping to catch sight of a passing spectre.

“Oh I’m gonna kick your ass,” she snarled before looking urgently at Skye as she pressed, “Skye, you know…”

“May,” Skye interrupted, “you don’t need to worry about that, I love my life… I love my husband and my little girl more than anything. You should know me better than that.”

May nodded her head in agreement and then climbed to her feet, “Alright. I have a friend I think can help us. His English isn’t so good, so I’m gonna have to do the talking here.”

“Great, cos my Mandarin is… like… none existent,” Skye managed a brief smile, “but you know growing up in the system, I’m just happy I can read and write in English, so…”

May chuckled, reaching out and curling her hand around Skye’s ankle in a gesture that was so maternal that it made Skye’s eyes burn with unshed tears. Though neither woman had ever voiced their feelings on the matter, Skye had somehow become the daughter May never got to have, and in the infamous Cavalry, Skye had found a reluctant but fiercely protective mother.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that one day. Maybe when I persuade Coulson to let me retire,” she smiled pointedly. “And for the record, Skye… I don’t think Ward would think you’re crazy, he loves you too much for that.”

Mulling over May’s proverbial words of wisdom, Skye realised that they were more than likely accurate. “I don’t want him to worry about me, May. Especially over something he can’t control.”

May observed the younger woman for several moments, her eyes sweeping her in a worried fashion before she stated, “If anything else happens, no matter what time of day or night, I want you to come find me.”

“Okay,” Skye agreed, finally pulling herself up from where she lay sprawled out on the bed. She affixed May with the biggest smile she could muster as she said, “Thank you, May. It means a lot that you don’t think I’m a total whack job.”

May let out a snort of laughter as she moved to the door, her fingers closing around the knob even as she turned back to regard Skye.

“Just you remember how much that man loves you,” she said, sweeping the room one final time with her keen gaze, just in case she could pick up on something out of the ordinary. She felt nothing though, and for that May was somewhat disappointed. She would dearly have loved to have given Jiaying a piece of her mind, even though she was dead and buried.

The door closed behind Melinda May and Skye curled up again on her bed, lying on her side with her arms tucked under her head like a pillow. There was still a part of her that worried and wondered about the possibility her mind was conjuring all of this, but it had grown smaller thanks to May’s assurances.

Fatigue washed over Skye in an insurmountable wave and she closed her eyes against the light filtering in through the chink in the curtains. She had negated to open them that morning, unable to face the brash and harsh rays of sunlight on barely three hours sleep. She had almost begun to drift away when she became aware of another presence in the room.

“She’s wrong, you know. Ward would think you were completely insane.”

“Oh, great,” Skye enthused sarcastically, grimacing as she turned to survey the flickering spectre. This time, it was Raina who stared back at her from behind a curtain of dark curls. “You can save your bullshit, Raina. I’m not buying.”

Planting her hand on her hip, the woman shrugged in apparent disinterest. “I’m just telling you the truth. You tell Grant you’re having conversations with dead people, and he’ll take that little girl and get as far away from you as he can…. Find her a new Mommy. One who isn’t crazy.”

Burying her face in a pillow, Skye held up one hand, leaving her middle finger extended to indicate just what she thought of Raina’s appearance and subsequent nonsense.

“You know, I think you’re more annoying dead than you were alive. Still rocking the floral, I see,” Skye frowned, gesturing to the woman’s long, rose-patterned dress, “wasn’t a good look then, still isn’t now.”

Raina laughed and, along with the gesture, the lightbulbs in the room flickered. Skye sat up straight, refusing to allow her unease to shine through in her expression. The ghost continued to regard her, and Skye noted for the first time that whilst Raina appeared to look much more like her old human self, she was still bearing the marks from the neck wound that had killed her.

“We wish we didn’t have to do this, Skye,” Raina sighed, her voice mimicking a reluctant and sad tone as best she could. “Really it’s for the best though. Don’t you see how you’re making a mess here?”

“Get out, we’re done,” ordered Skye, rolling over onto her side again and curling into a foetal position. She would not listen. She would not grant them the satisfaction of getting to her or seeing her break again. May would come through for her with a solution, she was certain.

“As you wish,” Raina breathed, and before Skye could blink, the woman was gone. The only indication of her presence was the distinct chill in the air, that Skye had quickly come to realise came hand in hand with the spirits.

Skye almost breathed a sigh of relief, however, in the next moment there was a thump so loud inside the room that all four walls trembled as though rocked by her own seismic powers. Simultaneously, every framed photograph that Skye and Ward owned seemed to be flung from their places, landing in the centre of the room on the floor at the foot of the bed in piles of glass and splintered wood.

“They’re just photographs!” Skye yelled to nobody in particular, her rage almost entirely overcoming her fear, “don’t you see? You can’t ruin this for me. You’re dead. You can’t hurt me anymore. And I will not let you take this away from me.”

Scrambling up from the bed, Skye grabbed her phone from the nightstand and strode towards the door, desperate suddenly to seek company, which she hoped might mean her peace was not about to be interrupted by those of an undead persuasion. She couldn’t help but wonder if Agent Forbes’ death was somehow connected to recent occurrences.

Slamming the bedroom door, she stormed down the corridor, desperate to find Ward or perhaps May. Alone she was vulnerable and if there was one thing that Skye refused to be, it was a victim.

 

**x-x-x**

Chewing on the end of her pencil, Vivi kicked her legs from where she sat on the stool at the breakfast bar in the Playground kitchen. Stacks of paper were spread out in front of her, her childish attempts to mimic the letters and numbers her mother had drawn for her evident on the pages. Gently, Skye captured the pencil and lowered it away from her daughter’s lips with a chiding smile.

“Don’t put things in your mouth, baby,” she instructed, and Vivian nodded sagely in understanding.

“Sorry,” she lisped, reaching across the counter for Louis and tucking him carefully under her arm.

“Now,” Skye began, diverting her attention back to the piece of paper directly in front of Vivi, “what’s this letter right here?”

Vivian paused, cocking her head as she appeared to mull over the question. Finally, she broke her silence.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” she stated, all thoughts of literacy or numeracy suddenly very far from her mind. Skye chuckled and nodded her head, beginning to shuffle the papers into a neat pile.

“Okay, you stay right here and I’ll fix you a snack,” Skye directed, watching as the toddler nodded her head enthusiastically in response. Leaning forward she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, breathing in the scent of her baby shampoo that was now mixed with the unmistakable aroma of chlorine.

Turning around to open the refrigerator, Skye leaned over the door, beginning to search the contents of the shelves when she heard Vivi sigh dejectedly.

“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Vivian demanded, putting down her pencil and beginning to industriously attempt to peel off the stickers that were inserted into the back of her ‘Learn Your A, B, C’s’ book.

“He had to go talk to Grandpa, but he’ll be back really soon,” Skye informed her, still peering across the shelves in search of the pack of sliced cheese Vivian loved. “You want to make Daddy a sandwich too?”

“Yeah, Mommy. With tomato… and cu-mum-ber,” Vivi nodded enthusiastically, reaching out for her juice box and sealing her lips around the straw. She made a loud slurping sound as she took an industrious gulp of apple juice.

Skye smiled at the mispronunciation of the word, which was really too cute for her to even contemplate correcting. She had been dreading Ward’s meeting no end, realising that it would leave her alone with Vivian during a time when she wasn’t entirely certain she was the safest person to be around. Whilst Skye would rather die than harm her daughter, she had no idea just how far the spirits tormenting her might go to terrify her, even in Vivi’s company. However, the past hour had passed pleasantly and uneventfully, although Skye had done her best to keep Vivi occupied in the communal rooms of the Playground in order to avoid returning to their quarters. She had yet to clean up the glass and splintered picture frames in the centre of their bedroom, and she didn’t want Vivi asking awkward questions about what had happened. She would get to it later, when Ward could keep an eye on their daughter and she would be able to slip away unnoticed.

“Do you want mayo, sweetie?” Skye called over her shoulder as she began laying out enough pieces of bread to make all three of them a snack. She was met with silence. Skye continued cutting slices of cucumber and tomato as she waited for Vivian to respond. It was more than likely that she had become lost in her drawings again, drifting off into her own world of daydreams as Skye herself had been inclined to do at the same age.

“Mayo?” Skye checked again after a minute. She piled ingredients onto the sandwiches, humming quietly under her breath as she worked.

“Mommy, look at me!” Vivi finally called out, sounding thrilled beyond measure about something. Putting down a piece of cheese, Skye turned around to face her daughter wearing an indulgent smile. 

Her breath caught in her chest when she saw Vivian standing on top of the high barstool, her smile wide and her eyes creased as she giggled; and there, holding her hands, was Jiaying.

“Get away from my daughter,” Skye yelled, dropping the knife and immediately running towards the child, who had no idea of the potential danger she was in. Vivian screwed up her face, confused by her mother’s reaction, and shot a suddenly wary glance at the woman in front of her.

Nodding her head, Jiaying obediently let go of the little girl’s hands, shooting her one final smile before she flickered then vanished from view. The stool began to wobble dangerously, swaying from side to side as though pushed by an unseen hand, and in an instant the child began to tumble down towards the floor. Images of her head smacking the tiles or the side of the counter flooded Skye’s mind within a second, and she choked out a scream. Vivi’s mouth opened into a wide ‘o’ of shock and surprise as she realised that she was falling.

“No!” Skye cried out, certain that she wasn’t going to reach her daughter in time and feeling her stomach plummet in dread. In desperation, Skye threw up her hand and sent the couch positioned across the adjacent wall careening towards the breakfast bar. Vivian landed on the cushions with a scream of fright, her left arm bending underneath her whilst her head hit the arm of the couch. She let out a shriek of pain and Skye dashed forwards, closing the remaining distance between them.

“What hurts, baby?” she demanded, her hands trembling as she swept her fingertips over Vivian’s forehead in an exploratory manner. She felt nausea rise up from the depths of her gut but she managed to stave it off for the time being, knowing that tending to Vivian would have to take priority to falling apart.

“My… head… my… arm…” Vivi wailed on broken sobs, letting out another high-pitched shriek as Skye moved to tenderly touch her left arm. The little girl recoiled as best she could given the fact she was still sprawled upside down across the couch, and Skye watched with a sinking heart as she began to cry harder.

“Hey, you want Mommy to kiss it better?” she pressed, stroking tears from Vivian’s face, which paled suddenly as she drew her arm into her chest.

“Hurts… it… hurts…” Vivian continued to cry, her breath coming in irregular hitches. Quickly making a decision, and with her heart almost in her mouth, Skye scooped up the child into her arms, ignoring the stares of the agents who had poked their heads around the doorway to see the cause of the din echoing through the corridors.

Vivi cried harder as the movement jostled her, and Skye began to seriously worry that she would in fact find herself dealing with a broken bone.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she soothed, tears beginning to course down her own cheeks as she strode towards the medical bay, where she hoped she might find Jemma, or at least someone else who could be of more use in the situation than she could be.

As soon as she pushed through the doors of medical, Skye spotted Lincoln standing over a computer monitor, and relief forced her to suck in a steadying breath whilst she held the sobbing child to her chest. “She fell… she landed on her arm, I… Please help her, Lincoln!”

Stunned at the sudden intrusion, Lincoln blinked in surprise for a few seconds before springing into life and leading mother and daughter over to an empty bay.

“Hey, Vivi, what’s going on, huh?” he asked brightly, deliberately trying to keep his tone jovial so as not to panic the already sobbing child.

“She fell, she…” Skye began, unable to voice that her own mother had been the one to taunt the toddler into climbing atop the stool, “she fell from the stool. I managed to get the couch under her but… I shouldn’t have left her, I was just in the kitchen, I... I couldn’t reach her in time.”

Pausing for a moment, Lincoln placed his hands firmly onto Skye’s shoulders and bent his head to secure her gaze, “This is not your fault. She’s gonna be fine. Kids fall over, they have accidents…”

Moments later the doors of the med bay swung open for a second time and Ward strode in, his eyes darting from bay to bay as he sought out his family.

“Grant!” Skye flew into his arms, catching him somewhat off-guard. Nonetheless, he wrapped his arms tightly around his wife as he looked down at the sobbing toddler, who was sitting on the examination couch, tears tripping her cheeks.

“She’s okay, they’re both okay,” Lincoln assured him, returning his attention to his patient and beginning to talk to her quietly as he attempted to persuade her to allow him have a look at her arm.

“Collins said she saw you headed to the med bay,” Grant explained, his eyes still trained on Vivi, who was protesting loudly as Lincoln tried to coax her into straightening up her arm to allow for a proper examination. As a Specialist, Ward had broken many bones over the years and he knew the pain to be immense. He found his heart skipping beats as he stared at his daughter, his wife clutched to his chest.

“What happened?” he pressed as gently as possible when he noted the tears coursing down Skye’s cheeks. Her face reddened and she buried it momentarily within her palms. From the way her shoulders slumped, Grant could see that maternal guilt was eating her up from the inside.

“Jiaying… My Mom… she pushed her… I mean, I don’t know, I didn’t see but… she was there and the stool was shaking… and…” Skye trailed off, unable to continue through her tears and gasps for breath.

“No…” Vivi whined, pouting at Lincoln and attempting to swat him with her uninjured hand as he did his utmost to carefully manoeuvre her arm into a better position.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Vivi,” Lincoln said, his face contorted by his own healthy measure of guilt at causing the little girl further pain, “I promise, I’ll be as quick as I can, okay?”

Stubbornly, Vivian shook her head and, shooting a glance at Skye, Ward crossed the room in order to stand behind their daughter and at least attempt to hold her still for Lincoln.

“She was there, Grant,” Skye choked out, hovering several feet away from the bed, guilt and confusion darkening her features, “she won’t leave me alone… I can’t make her stop!”

Dismissing his wife’s claims as an acute stress reaction, certainly not surprising given the events of the last week, Ward dutifully sat down on the exam bed and positioned his crying daughter in his lap.

Less than half an hour later, Vivian Ward had been x-rayed, given pain relief, and officially diagnosed with nothing more serious than a sprain and a bumped head. Clinging to her father’s chest, the toddler looked unusually miserable, her brown eyes lacking their usual brightness as she sat on his knee with her cheek pressed to his chest.

Though Lincoln had tried to cheer her up with stickers, lollipops and balloon faces made out of latex gloves, it was apparent that in her currently injured state, the little girl simply wanted her parents.

Carrying the sleepy child in his arms, Ward walked alongside his wife, who was quite clearly still wracked with guilt.

“Skye, come on… it was an accident. Kids have accidents. We’re gonna have to get used to this. She’s okay, she’s gonna be fine.”

Finally content in her father’s embrace, Vivian nodded sleepily, “It was an assident, Momma. I fine. I very, very fine.”

Skye swallowed down another wave of emotion, feeling stronger in the wake of the fact that Vivi had been given the all clear, and she leaned forwards to brush a kiss against the child’s cheek.

“I’m glad, baby,” she whispered, her hand stroking back tendrils of still damp hair from Vivian’s face.

“Let’s take her back to our room. We can put on some Disney,” Ward suggested, his grin persuasive as he peered at Skye, who did her best to quirk her own lips upwards in something resembling a smile.

“I’m here if you need to talk, sweetheart,” he whispered as he leaned forwards and brushed his lips against the shell of Skye’s ear. She shivered at the pleasant sensation of his warm breath ghosting across her skin, but when she glanced up at him it was with an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

“You two get started without me,” she suggested, pausing in the corridor momentarily, “I’ll catch up with you soon, I just… I have to see May.”

“Gramma?” Vivi slurred groggily as the dose of Tylenol Lincoln had administered to her began to catch up with her. Vivi had rarely been sick a day in her life, much to Skye and Ward’s immense relief, and so whenever they found themselves forced to reach for the medicine bottle, it generally had the effect of wiping her out for a little while afterwards.

“Yes, honey, I just have to talk to Gramma real quick and then I’ll be home,” Skye vowed, her eyes ticking to the bandage on Vivian’s arm. It could have been so much worse, but she wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate that. However, one thing was now abundantly clear to her; something had to be done, sooner rather than later.

Skye hurried down the hall, almost breaking out into a jog as she sought out May’s office. These days May was accepting far fewer field assignments and seemed to be almost acting as Assistant Director. Though that meant Ward was picking up the field missions she passed on, she still kept an eye on any operations and would often accompany her team on missions. The ‘cavalry’ had become just that; there if needed in an emergency, but otherwise keeping a fair distance from the action.

That was not to say of course that Melinda May still couldn’t wipe the floor with just about any adversary unfortunate enough to be put in front of her. But these days she was more selective of the missions she engaged in.

Without knocking, Skye threw the door to the office wide open, storming in without apology. She found May speaking hurriedly into her cell phone. Gesturing for Skye to sit down on the couch in her office, she hastily ended the call and sat down next to the younger woman with a concerned expression tainting her usually impassive features.

“Skye? What’s the matter?” May demanded urgently, a frown forming on her lips as Skye began to sob and subsequently threw herself into her former mentor’s arms.

Grasping onto the woman for reassurance – perhaps as the only maternal presence in her life – Skye was almost shaking with a combination of rage and fear.

“I was in the kitchen with Vivi, I turned around for a second, and… and she was standing on one of the breakfast bar stools…”

May arched an eyebrow and frowned in sympathy, “Well, kids do things like that, Skye. She’s a toddler, they’re not known for their good life choices.”

Managing a brief smile, Skye shook her head, her expression nothing short of miserable, “No. No, May. You don’t understand. Jiaying… she was standing next to her, she had hold of her hands. And then she let go of her… let go of her so she’d fall.”

May’s expression was appalled as she asked in a rush, “Is Vivian okay?”

Skye nodded hurriedly as she rushed to assure May, “She’s fine, thank God. I managed to break her fall by moving the couch underneath her. But…”

Skye brushed away fresh tears as she thought about her daughter’s anguished screams, “She landed on her wrist, Lincoln says it’s just a sprain. But… she hurt my baby, May. If she’s capable of that, what else could she do to them? I need help. And you’re the only one who won’t think I’m crazy.”

May’s eyes narrowed, a darkness crashing across her features that hadn’t been present for a very long time indeed.

“Skye, we need to bring Coulson in on this,” May stated, raising an eyebrow as Skye immediately began to shake her head.

“No, no way,” she protested, pushing her hair behind her ears and biting her lip as she peered across at the woman in obvious distress.

“This is happening on his base, Skye,” May objected, her jaw setting as she continued, “Coulson won’t think you’re crazy, I can pretty much guarantee. He’s seen enough unexplainable shit to last him a lifetime. He can help us, explain things to the team, and make sure that you, Grant and Vivian are well protected until we can work this out.”

Skye’s eyes grew teary but she gave a reluctant nod, knowing that although she was afraid of being subjected to the disbelief and scorn of her colleagues, what May said made perfect sense. Coulson made no secret of the fact he was a believer, after all, and had often hinted to both Skye and other team members that he had experienced encounters over the years that science alone could not explain.

“Okay, I guess you’re right,” she relented, sagging back almost miserably against the couch cushions.   

“I’m always right. It’s my curse,” May deadpanned, reaching out and giving Skye’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Standing up, she walked behind her desk and rummaged around in the top drawer for a few moments. When she produced a small, brass pendant, she held it up in front of the young woman and then gestured to her neck with a slight tilt of her head.

“Here, put this on. It’ll at least keep you safe whilst we figure this out.”

Reaching out a hand to receive the glinting object, Skye frowned as she peered at the Chinese lettering and symbols adorning the centre of the small coin. “What is it?”

“A talisman. For protection. It’s called a Lock Coin,” May informed her, nodding emphatically, “go ahead, put it on.”

Dubious about the claims of such items, Skye frowned, debating over its potential benefit. However, if there was the slightest chance it offered any form of protection, she knew where she wanted it to go.

“No, May. Put it on Vivi.”

“I have another back in my room,” May explained, waving her hand at Skye to encourage her to fasten the necklace around her neck, “I’ll go back and get it as soon as I’ve spoken to Coulson and we can put that one on Vivian. Right now, I need to know you’re safe once I’ve left this office.”

Still appearing hesitant, Skye gave a reluctant nod before fumbling with the chain and clasp, which she managed to affix round her neck after a few seconds. May smiled, almost seeming relieved, and gestured to the door.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” she promised, countenance growing stern as she pointed one finger at Skye, “stay put, Agent Johnson. That’s an order.”

Folding her arms, Skye slowly perused the office, her attention suddenly captured by a double photograph frame sitting on May’s desk. It faced away from her and so she was unable to see whose image was contained within, but she found that her curiosity rapidly got the better of her.

Standing up and approaching the desk, Skye scooped up the frame and turned it around in her hand. She instantly chuckled as she ran her eyes over the photographs contained within. On one side of the frame was an image of an infant Vivian lying happily in her arms, her shock of dark hair sticking up in tufts as she tried to jam her entire fist into her mouth under the watchful and obviously adoring gaze of her mother. Skye remembered Grant taking the photograph – one of hundreds contained on his phone that she had had printed. She looked happy and content, in awe of the chubby cheeked bundle in her arms. On the other side, a photograph of Vivian’s fourth birthday, taken only weeks ago at the party Coulson had insisted on throwing her. A plastic tiara sat atop her head, and she was grinning in delight at the camera with a princess castle cake sitting in front of her.

“ _May, you big ole’ softie_ ,” Skye giggled, stroking her fingertip over the image of the toddler’s face.

“Where’s that tall, dark and handsome husband of yours? Out finding your replacement already? Do you really think you can trust him, Skye? I mean, he has…”

Rolling her eyes in frustration, Skye levelled a withering glare at Raina as she spun around to face the source of the voice that had fractured the quiet of May’s office.

“Save it, Pinhead. Haven’t you got a puzzle box to be haunting?!”

Raina sniffed indignantly. She was infinitely glad that her ghostly visage had not assumed her Inhuman form, spines and all, which she had never truly come to terms with if truth be told.

“Your father made me what I was!” Raina snapped angrily, her lips curling into a snarl that exhibited teeth that had begun to blacken and decay.

Skye swivelled around to face the undead woman head on, doing her level best to make it appear as though it was she who was fully in control of the situation.

“Yeah, well he’s the least crazy out of my parents, so count yourself lucky.”

Raina wandered around May’s desk, her filmy eyes trained on the frame Skye had replaced. Her pale lips quirked into a smile that was not at all genuine.

“You really do have a beautiful family, Skye,” Raina said, her tone almost wistful as she continued to circle the desk like a shark.

“I know, and if you know what’s good for your dead ass, you’ll stay away from them,” Skye spat, her eyes flashing dangerously where fear was rapidly morphing into anger. The more the ghosts pushed, the more furious she became as opposed to unstable, which was perhaps their intention.

Raina laughed, the sound somewhat wet, given the hole in her neck. Skye grimaced and looked away. She had never had the strongest stomach when it came to gore and blood.

“Oh Skye,” Raina purred, coming to rest at the opposite side of the desk. She waved a hand over the surface, not making physical contact with anything, and yet she still managed to send papers, trinkets and stationary flying about the room in a sort of whirlwind that seemed to have manifested. Skye felt the ends of her hair rising up in the air and whipping around her, but she refused to be intimidated and so she remained in her seat, staring Raina down. Her hand drifted to the pendant around her neck and Raina’s eyes seemed to flash ominously.

In a mocking and sinister voice, she spat, “We’re just getting started with them.”

Then, she was gone.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**I’ve Grown Familiar with Villains that Live in my Head”**

**Four**

**x-x-x**

 

Skye ran full pelt down the corridor, ignoring the raised eyebrows and confused looks directed at her by other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents she passed. Although May had commanded her to stay in the office, with Raina’s threat towards Vivi and Grant hanging over her head there was absolutely no way she could just sit tight and hope nothing bad befell them. What kind of mother or wife would she be if that were her attitude?

Finally turning the corner into the corridor that led to the living quarters, Skye picked up her speed even more. She passed other closed doorways, from behind which she could hear laughter or the sound of televisions blaring, but she kept going until she reached the room that was shared by her family. She didn’t bother to hammer on the door, instead pushing it open and racing inside. She expected to find Vivi and Grant propped up on the bed, watching Disney cartoons as they had discussed earlier, but she was instead greeted by only tousled sheets. As she stepped further inside the room she realised that someone had taken time to clear up the glass and splintered wood that she had left in the middle of the room, and her heart sank a little. She had hoped to get to that before Grant even knew something had transpired. He was probably as equally worried about her and was perhaps even searching the Playground to find her.

The sound of the shower turning on in the en-suite brought a wave of relief washing over her, and Skye took a moment to steady her nerves before she set out towards the bathroom. She fixed a smile on her face – a gesture which was most definitely forced – and tapped gently on the door.

“Grant?” she called out, waiting for a few seconds with her cheek and ear resting against the wood. It seemed he had turned the shower on full pelt, and she reasoned after she called his name again and received no response that he more than likely couldn’t hear her above the roar of the water.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be at all concerned with her interrupting his shower – it was after all a fairly common occurrence and usually involved very little by the way of actual showering – she opened the door and walked into the steam filled room.

The absence of any clothing on the counter or even folded on the floor was strange, but perhaps if Vivian was being looked after by any one of her doting ‘aunts’ or ‘uncles’, Grant had simply cleaned up the mess in their room and tossed his clothes in the hamper.

It often amused her that one of the things that had turned out to be true about Grant Ward was that he was most definitely a neat freak. Skye on the other hand was resolute in her dedication to making as much of a mess as possible and being something of a reluctant house keeper.

“Grant?” she called out, trying to dismiss the shiver that ran up her spine as she tentatively reached out to pull open the cubicle door, which was too steamed up to allow her to see inside.

The naked figure in the shower turned to face her, and Skye stumbled backwards, this time too surprised to even scream when she found herself gazing upon the bloody and decaying face of Emily Forbes. Her eyes were still frozen wide open in the same manner as they had been at the moment of her death, and blood spilled over her parted lips to drip down her neck and chest. Her whole body was grey, although there were patches of dark purple and blue bruises around her shoulders, which Skye immediately recognised as the hand prints of the Hydra Inhuman that had murdered her. Blonde hair hung wet past her shoulders but the water seemed to be doing nothing to wash away the blood.

“You… killed… me…” Emily growled, perhaps more as a result of her ruined vocal chords than her fury. However, her anger was present within her eyes and behind the grotesque curl of her upper lip.

“I didn’t…” Skye stammered, backing right up until she hit the wall. To her horror, Emily’s ghost stepped out of the shower cubicle, intent on following her.

“Your… fault…” she hissed, her hands balling into fists at her side. As she approached Skye, the bathroom light blinked on and off, and in the steam coating the mirror a word began to form; murderer.

“I’m sorry,” Skye said, swallowing down her guilt and her horror simultaneously, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Emily… but this… this isn’t right. I don’t believe this is who you were…”

Almost as soon as she’d appeared, Emily disappeared, leaving Skye staring into the empty shower with tears coursing down her face.

The lights flickered once again, and Skye turned sharply as she felt something touch her shoulder. When she spun around, heart thumping madly in her chest, she found Emily standing behind her. Strangely, this time the grotesque wound was absent from her throat, no mottled bruises or jagged bite marks marred her skin, and she stood before Skye just as she had looked in life – soft, willowy, and pretty.

Her eyes wide, Emily begged in a ghostly whisper, “ _Stop him_!”

“What?” Skye gasped, surprise and confusion overwhelming her as she realised this ‘ghost’ was not the same as the one she had encountered only moments before. This version of the late S.H.I.E.L.D. agent looked just as panicked and devastated as the Inhuman before her.

Emily gazed at her imploringly, her body shuddering as she pleaded, “Let me rest…”

“What? Stop who? Emily? Who?” Skye called out, but the spectre flickered from view, leaving her only enough time to turn off the shower before she bolted for the door.

 

**x-x-x**

Ward had been reluctant to leave Vivi given the happenings of the afternoon but Lincoln had insisted that a meeting was necessary, and Jemma had volunteered her services as babysitter at the eleventh hour. Therefore, he had tucked Vivian into bed in FitzSimmons’ room and then started out to the medical bay, somewhat concerned about whatever it was that seemed to have Lincoln’s boxers in a bunch.

When Ward pushed the door to medical open, he found Lincoln sitting at his desk, a bottle of bourbon already cracked open and two tumblers in front of him.

“Well, that’s never a good sign, doc,” Ward observed, folding his arms as he stared at Lincoln, who only offered a small smile before gesturing for Ward to occupy the chair opposite his.

“Pull up a chair, Grant,” directed Lincoln, pausing to take a sip from his glass, “don’t worry, I finished a half hour ago so I’m technically not being irresponsible. Dr. Reyes is on call.”

Nodding his head, Ward crossed the room and sank into the chair, his hand skimming the glass that Lincoln had already filled for him.

“I’ll pass.” Ward shook his head with a brief smile, gesturing down to the tumbler.  Whilst he didn’t want to admit it, he figured clouding his own mind with alcohol was possibly not a good idea given how unsettled Skye seemed. Also, he wanted to keep a clear head in case Vivian needed him further.

“Please yourself,” Lincoln shrugged, taking a large gulp from his own glass and sighing resolutely.

“So… what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Ward asked, already suspicious about the impending topic of conversation. In fact, he was almost certain he already knew what was coming.

“You get the blood work back from my physical?” Ward smiled, trying to lighten the moment and also perhaps distract the doctor. “I got a vitamin deficiency?”

Rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his drink, Lincoln rebuffed Ward’s attempt at humour. “No. And you’re not pregnant, either.”

Ward managed a brief chuckle of amusement before he leaned back in his chair and regarded the Inhuman with mounting impatience; whatever Lincoln had to say, Ward wished he would just come out with it.

“Ward, I know you and I had an… uneasy start…” Lincoln began.

“Uneasy?” this time Ward did laugh, loud and hard. “I fucking hated your guts, Campbell. But then you were trying to get into my wife’s pants, so…”

Holding up his hand defensively, Lincoln replied, “Hey, she wasn’t your wife back then, and I didn’t know you guys were a ‘thing’.”

Shrugging absently, Ward regarded his friend with a pointed yet slightly nostalgic smile. “Skye and I have always been a ‘thing’… always will be. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. So, whatever you’ve got to say about her, let’s just get this over with.”

“How did you know…” Lincoln began, confusing crossing his features as he regarded Ward, who shrugged and flashed the doctor an arrogant smile.

“You know your biggest tell?” Ward inquired, amused when Lincoln seemed indignant at the very suggestion that he might actually be as easy for Grant to read as an open book.

“I don’t have tells!” Lincoln protested, leaning forwards and narrowing his eyes at Grant, who only smirked harder, obviously amused by the doctor’s vehemence on the matter.

“Your upper lip twitches, every time someone mentions whatever is making you uncomfortable,” Ward revealed, pointing at Lincoln as he continued, “like every time I say the name ‘Skye’.”

Barely managing to resist the urge to cover his mouth with his hand, Lincoln raised his glass and took a hearty sip.

“Okay, fine, it’s about Skye,” he answered, watching Grant carefully as he leaned back in the chair with his arms folded, perhaps prepared to listen with an open mind or perhaps poised to rebut everything Lincoln had to say.

“Go on,” Ward encouraged, eyes ticking to the table top for just a moment. He had a sinking suspicion he already knew what Lincoln wished to speak with him about; Skye’s behaviour over the last few days hadn’t escaped his own notice, and he too was concerned with how erratic it had grown, and how she seemed to be looking over her shoulder every few minutes. It wasn’t at all like Skye, who was usually the bravest and most unshakeable person Grant knew. Evidently something had affected her deeply, and he didn’t think it was just Agent Forbes’ death.

“I’m worried about her,” Lincoln said, pausing for a moment before he added, “not just as a friend but also as a medical professional.”

Ward nodded again but remained silent, hoping that Lincoln would be spurred into continuing. It appeared to work and Lincoln opened his mouth hurriedly to speak again.

“I’m not saying she’s crazy or unstable or anything like that…” he said carefully, “it’s just that, lately, she’s been exhibiting signs of… well… I…”

Lincoln trailed off, shaking his head as he reached for his glass and quickly downed the rest of his drink. Then, he raked both hands through his hair and affixed Ward with a look that communicated just how distraught he was over the words he was about to speak.

“Ward, I heard what she said about Jiaying.”

“Look, it’s been a tough few days for her,” Ward allowed, “and I’m not saying she’s been her usual self lately, but…”

Glancing down at his wedding ring first, as if he were somehow about to betray his wife simply by speaking, he continued, “If you’d met Skye when she first joined the team, you’d know she… she was like this… crazy hurricane that swept through the whole damn plane. She and I didn’t exactly get off to the best start back then. I thought she was reckless and irresponsible, everything was a joke to her, and… oh man, could she get on my last nerve…”

Lincoln smiled, picking up the bottle and twisting open the cap, “But you were crazy about her?”

“Have been ever since,” Ward admonished as he rested his elbows on his knees as if about to quietly impart some sort of secret to Lincoln. “Skye was all of the things I wasn’t. Fuck, she still is. She’s got this light around her, this need to see good in others, and she cares about people. Although I know she can take care of herself out in the field. I mean, she’s… spectacular out there.”

A sentimental smile settled on his lips and then promptly disappeared.

“But it’s the other part of being a Specialist… the tough calls, the death, the guilt, all those things that take a piece of your soul. That’s something she’ll never get used to. Because it’s not who she is.”

Lincoln nodded slowly, “You ever think of telling her this?”

Ward laughed and shook his head, “Do I look stupid to you? Skye will do what she wants to do. My job is just to be here, to love her, and… sometimes to pick up the pieces, and God knows she’s done that for me. She loves the job. It’s just… she needs more time to deal with shit like this than someone like May, or a heartless bastard like me.”

Lincoln shot Ward a withering look as he protested, “You’re not heartless, Ward. I know that’s the image you like to project out there and I know that works for you, but I see you with Skye. I see you with Vivi too, and that kid has you wrapped firmly around her little finger.”

Deflecting the comment with a shrug, Ward folded his hands over his abdomen. Though he commanded respect and a certain degree of fear amongst his students, and certainly among those he faced down in the field, he was proverbial putty when it came to his family.

“Yeah, well I never thought I’d get to have any of this. Kind of makes you want to hold on to it all that little bit tighter. Skye gave me a life, she… somehow found a way to forgive me, to love me. She gave me a daughter. So if you want me to sit here and listen to you tell me my wife’s crazy, you and I are gonna have a falling out, Campbell. And that’d be a shame, cos I only recently lost the urge to kill you.”

Lincoln said nothing, instead reaching for his glass again, although he didn’t raise it to his lips.

“Ward, I don’t mean it that way,” Lincoln said, shifting in his seat in evident discomfort. “But I can’t ignore what I heard. She said she saw Jiaying… that she hurt Vivi. That’s… it’s highly irregular.”

“Lincoln,” Ward all but snarled, his teeth gritted as he peered across the table at the other man, who almost flinched at the tone he found himself subjected to. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against the infamous Grant Ward in combat, especially since he and Hellfire were one and the same, but Lincoln would never want it to come to that; he and Grant had made peace a while ago, and that was the way that Lincoln liked things – amicable and as friendly as possible. He was Vivian’s pseudo uncle after all - had become like a brother to Skye - and he only wanted the best for their entire family, which was why he found himself speaking out now. If Skye needed help, there was no shame in that, and he wanted to be assured that she would get it.

“Please, Grant,” Lincoln said, his palms resting downwards on the table, “it’s not just that one incident. Simmons spoke to me this morning… apparently Skye had some sort of… extreme stress reaction over breakfast. Ran right out of the kitchen and May had to follow.”

“An extreme stress reaction is hardly surprising given the week she’s had,” Ward growled, his defences well and truly up.

“Are you honestly telling me you haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary in her behaviour?” Lincoln demanded, his own temper finally beginning to fray.

Sighing in irritation as he ran a hand through his hair, Ward snapped, “So she’s not been sleeping lately, and she’s been a little… erratic. You and I didn’t see what she did. We weren’t there, and we should’ve been. I should’ve been with her.”

Lincoln felt exasperation flooding through every pore, but he knew better than to express it, on both a professional and personal level. “Ward, damn it… her behaviour isn’t normal. She needs our help. If you can get her to come and see me, I can arrange therapy… maybe give her something to help her sleep. This isn’t normal Ward, and you know it!”

Ward was on his feet in a second, just managing to resist the urge to upend the table and storm out. But he managed to keep his temper in check.

However, he glared murderously down at Lincoln as he pointed at him in warning. “Whatever Skye is going through, it’s nothing she and I can’t handle together. You don’t know her like I do! Just leave it alone, Lincoln!”

Lincoln stood up quickly, noting how Ward’s palms had begun to smoke as his temper frayed. As opposed to letting his own temper get the better of him, he drew in a few deep breaths and fought to iron out his expression.

“I’m sorry, I know you think I’m overstepping here,” he began, surprised when Ward all but snarled at him, his eyes blazing.

“Understatement of the year, Campbell,” Grant growled, shaking his head at Lincoln’s perceived audacity. “If you think I will stand here and let you insult my wife…”

“ _That’s_ what you think I’m doing?” Lincoln demanded askance, his expression suddenly hurt as he regarded Ward, who seemed to deflate somewhat.

“I would never insult Skye,” Lincoln retorted, shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe the accusations levelled at him, “I’m worried about her, just like I know you are deep down. I want her to get some rest… talk to someone… feel better. We’re supposed to be a team, Ward, and we’re supposed to look out for each other.”

Ward froze, the truth in Lincoln’s words striking him full force. He would never allow anyone to insult his wife, who was literally the best thing that had happened to him throughout over three decades of misery. Yet, if he really considered things, was that actually what Lincoln was doing?

The two men glared at each other silently for a few seconds, neither moving nor backing down. Finally, Ward let out a deep sigh, and Lincoln felt his coiled muscles relax just a fraction.

“I’ll talk to her,” Ward said, grudgingly but with somewhat less venom than before, “see if I can’t persuade her to come see you, or Simmons.”

Lincoln nodded emphatically, his relief evident in his expression as he replied, both palms raised, “That’s all I’m asking… and, if I find nothing, I swear I’ll drop this. Hell, I may even apologise.”

“But if she says no, you let it go, you understand me?” Ward demanded, “she’s had a tough week, all she needs is a little time… not people… calling her crazy!”

The memory of being labelled ‘insane’ was something it had taken Ward a long time to shake off. Years of therapy and being in a stable environment, having somebody suddenly show him love, and living a life of purpose had all eventually led him to make peace with the past. But he understood what it was to have one’s sanity called into question, and he wouldn’t ever disrespect his wife by doing the same to her. Especially when her ‘issues’ were so very insignificant compared to his.

“Fine,” Lincoln allowed, “as you said, you know her the best, so…”

“Yeah. I do,” Ward snapped, shaking his head in frustration. He was overcome by the sudden need to track down his wife and start a hesitant, potentially awkward discussion about how she was feeling. “We’re done here.”

Turning on his heel, Grant stormed out of the med bay without another word, unaware that Skye lingered just outside the doorway and had caught the majority of the conversation that had transpired.

Shrinking back behind a wall of lockers, Skye stepped into the shadows, seething with rage at Lincoln’s accusations. Ward had defended her, as she knew he would, but even in his tone she’d recognised uncertainty and, dare she say, a shred of fear.

Swallowing hard, Skye turned to face the grinning spectre of Raina, who looked like the very definition of the cat who got the cream.

“See,” she whispered, her brown ringlets floating about her shoulders in an ethereal manner, “ _I told you_.”

Gritting her teeth, Skye pushed away from the wall and, in her fury, she gave no thought to barrelling into the medical room, where Lincoln still sat at his desk. His eyes widened faintly in surprise as he glanced up at Skye, his ready smile immediately fading as he took in the furious and simultaneously distraught expression crossing her features.

“How could you?” she spat, her eyes blazing as she regarded the doctor, who appeared momentarily confused.

“Skye, what are you…?” he attempted, shaking his head and clambering to his feet again.

“You go behind my back and try to convince Grant that I’m losing my mind?” Skye demanded, her voice trembling as a consequence of the rage threatening to bury her rationality completely, “you didn’t even talk to me… you just… you tried to convince my husband that I’m insane, Lincoln!”

“No!” he said firmly, holding up the hand that clutched his glass, “I’m just worried about you, we all are, Skye. Even Grant, although he doesn’t like to admit it.”

Skye widened her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, “Oh so you know what my husband’s thinking? You’re a fucking mind reader now as well as a doctor, Lincoln?”

Suddenly recalling the urgency of her mission, Skye shook her head dismissively as she flung out, “I don’t have time for this now. But just so you know, if you want me to ‘talk’ to someone, it’s not gonna be you.”

Lincoln sighed heavily, sitting back in his chair and watching as Skye practically ran out of the room, the doors swinging practically off their hinges in her wake.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips as he considered the possibility of a well and truly ruined friendship.

He slammed his glass down on the table, electricity crackling at his fingertips. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force the static charge to subside, but he could not get his unease to wane along with it. As much as he hated being the cause of pain for his friends, he could not shake the feeling that there was something not right with Skye.

He expelled a breath and watched it form a cloud of white smoke in the air before him, mystified by the sudden drop in temperature in the medical bay, where the heating was usually turned up full blast throughout the year.

Seconds later, the bottle at his fingertips exploded, and the overhead lights flickered out.

 

**x-x-x**

Realising that Vivian was safer on the base, Skye wasted no time in procuring a car and driving off site at speeds that certainly exceeded the legal limits. She hadn’t been entirely sure where she was going, and the tears of anger and frustration that were flowing freely down her cheeks made it hard to see straight in the darkness or to concentrate on the road.

As did the ghostly apparition sitting beside her, who was clearly taking great delight in the entire situation.

“Poor Grant, he seemed so upset to find out his wife is losing her mind,” Raina crooned, “those puppy dog eyes he always looked at you with… nauseating as it was… I always hoped things would work out for you kids. But now?”

She shot Skye a vaguely sympathetic smile that stopped short of being genuine when she suddenly threw her head back, cackling.

“What do you want from me?” Skye snarled, glowering at Raina so hard that she almost ran a stop light. She managed to slam the brakes on at the last second, much to the obvious annoyance of the driver of the car behind her, who leaned on his horn repeatedly. Skye startled but did not remove her eyes from Raina’s pasty face.

“Oh you do disappoint me, Skye,” she said through her mock pout, “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“So I’m supposed to figure it out on my own then,” Skye retorted, nodding her head emphatically, her manner less than composed. Her fingers drummed against the wheel as she waited for the lights to change, which seemed to be taking an age.

“Ugh,” Raina grunted, eyes rolling in her head, “that would probably take too long so let me put you out of your misery. One, short, sweet word, Skye; _revenge_.”

Skye felt a ripple of annoyance run through her shoulders right down her spine and she barely just managed to restrain herself from trying to punch Raina. She doubted it would have done much good anyway; she was willing to bet that the spirits could make physical contact with the living only as and when they themselves desired. And it was highly unlikely that Raina desired to become Skye’s punching bag.

“What exactly do you want revenge on me for?” Skye demanded. She kept staring at the lights but still they refused to change, and she began to wonder if Raina had something to do with that.

“Why, for all your past wrongs, of course,” Raina declared, her sickly smile back in place, “for all the blood that’s on your hands. Why should you get to live this perfect, charmed life when there are so many of us who are worm food now because of your choices?”

“I never meant…” Skye protested, her lips twisting in anguish. For as much as she might hate Raina, she knew that she did not relish the taking or loss of a life; she would always rather find another way where one existed.

Skye squirmed in the driver’s seat, uncomfortable under the weight of Raina’s gaze, which was trained on her as she continued to peer out of the windscreen. She began to lose hope that the lights would ever turn green again.

“And Jiaying?” she asked, more quietly, “what about my mother? Does she want revenge too?”

Raina actually shrugged as she replied nonchalantly, “I don’t really give a damn what that murderous bitch wants. You’d have to ask her yourself… but if it makes you feel any worse, which I truly hope it does, I have a feeling that she just wants the two of you to be together. Forever. A mother’s love never dies, I guess.”

Raina laughed maniacally and, with a wave of her hand, the car lurched forwards, straight through the red light. Skye slammed her foot down on the brakes but nothing happened, and she let out a scream as she realised that her car was positioned across the intersection with another vehicle headed straight for it.

The other driver honked his horn, doing his best to slam on his own brakes, but it was evident that impact would be made. Skye screwed her eyes closed and waited; waited for the crash and the noise of metal twisting and the pain, but none of those things ever came. At the last second, Raina threw her hand forward and the car picked up speed, hurtling away from the scene before the other vehicle could connect with it.

Sighing as if she were now immensely bored with the situation, Raina shot Skye a withering glare, “Where exactly do you think you’re going, Skye? You know we can get to the brat any time we want. One of the perks of death is that we can pretty much show up wherever, whenever.”

“But you won’t,” Skye retorted, hands gripping the steering wheel as she made a turn and slowly began to navigate her way through a residential area with an array of Victorian homes dotted about the streets. “Because this is all about me.”

“Shit…” Raina drawled in a pained groan, suddenly sensing the presence of another member of the deceased in the back seat of the car. “What the hell do you want, Madam Wu?”

Skye glanced in the rear-view mirror, her heart stuttering as she saw Jiaying’s impassive face staring back at her.

“I want to talk to my daughter. If I need someone to whine incessantly in the background whilst I do, I’ll give you a call,” Jiaying replied with a perfectly measured, sweet smile spread across her lips.

“This is pathetic,” scoffed Raina, looking from Skye to Jiaying and back again. “At least now I see where you get it from.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Skye ground out through her clenched teeth, finally making a turning into a cul-de-sac that by now looked very familiar.

“Skye, sweetheart, it would be so easy,” Jiaying whispered, a single tear sliding down her left cheek as she continued to stare at her daughter, “there wouldn’t have to be any pain. I could make sure of that. Then we could be together, like we never had the chance to be before. We can even bring Vivian if you…”

“Do not even _speak_ my daughter’s name, you evil bitch,” Skye snarled, practically stomping on the brakes to bring the car to a complete halt on the street in front of a tall, red brick house. It had a black slate roof, a wrap-around porch, and a generous front yard containing several apple trees, but perhaps the most impressive feature of the home was the small turret that it boasted on the right-hand side. Skye and Ward had fallen in love with it from the moment they had laid eyes upon it. The turret room was to be Vivi’s, since she already fancied herself a princess.

“You were right, Raina,” Skye said, nodding briefly at the spirit, who appeared confused by the unexpected praise, “I had to figure things out by myself. I guess I just did… because you ghost types are all about the unfinished business, right? And that’s what I am to you; the daughter you couldn’t have, the girl you couldn’t kill… the woman who didn’t save you in time. So, by my reasoning, where I go, you go… and if I don’t go anywhere near my family, then neither can you.”

Skye stared at the house, feeling a sudden sense of loss as she realised she was tainting it with whatever events would unfold that night. Briefly, she mourned the chance she would lose to make their first memory of their new home a good one; watching Vivian run up the stairs to her room, eating dinner as a family at their own dining table, or making love for the first time in a bed that had only ever been theirs.

Shooting a murderous glare at the now vacant spaces in the car, Skye turned off the engine and exited the vehicle, slamming the door shut before she dug in her pocket for the keys.

Opening the front door with a somewhat hesitant pause, Skye was met by the smell of drying paint. She noted the buckets, tarps, and boxes of tools that the builders they had hired had left behind that evening, and a wistful sigh escaped her.

As she stepped into the hall and closed the door, Skye pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, keen to let May know where she was; she wasn’t stupid enough to think she could handle the situation entirely by herself, after all.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she cursed as she discovered the ‘no service’ message flashing in the corner of her cell screen. She took a few minutes to wander from room to room downstairs, then even back out onto the front porch, hoping against hope that the signal bars on the phone screen would suddenly light up. They didn’t.

Skye let out a screech and barely managed to resist the urge to fling her phone against the wall. She could only assume that otherworldly activity had had a hand in her sudden enforced radio silence. She would need to wait, until perhaps the spirits’ powers were beginning to wane, and she could get a message through to the base.

“Fine. _Fine_!” Skye yelled, peering up at the ceiling with her rage bubbling away steadily inside her, “you wanted me, now you’ve got me.”

Cursing under her breath, she stormed over to the corner of what was to be their lounge, where a collection of empty plastic crates had been abandoned by the decorators. She upended one quickly and sat down on top of it as though it was a stool, her arms folding across her chest.

“Don’t be shy,” she encouraged, tilting her head as she stared across the room at nothing in particular, “we’ve got all night to talk things through; death, taxes, unfinished business, whatever.”

Skye received no reply - only perfect silence. She should have figured that the women haunting her every waking moment would be less than receptive to the prospect of moving on.

Heaving a sigh, she settled in to wait. For now, as long as she maintained a distance, Grant and Vivian were both safe, and that was all that truly mattered.

 

**x-x-x**

Puffing out his cheeks, Coulson folded his hands on top of the surface of his desk and took a moment to reflect on the information May had just provided him with.

“I mean, I knew there was something going on with her, I just… I didn’t think it was… ghosts.” He scowled, obviously worried about his young agent – the woman he had come to view as a daughter. “And she hasn’t told Ward?”

May shook her head, “No, she didn’t want him to worry. I think she was also a little afraid he’d think she was nuts… which _is_ insane because she could say she was having visions of the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man and Ward would volunteer to make her smores.”

Coulson smiled briefly, “I remember when I first told you about my little festive encounter, I thought you were gonna lock me in Vault D and have me sedated.”

“Well I’m full of surprises.” May arched an eyebrow, her expression suddenly growing serious once again. “What are we going to do, Phil? This isn’t usual S.H.I.E.L.D. business. I have a friend I think may be able to help us, but…”

Turning around his laptop so that May could see the screen, Coulson gestured to the photograph of the late Emily Forbes’ husband, which occupied much of the available space.

“It seems Agent Forbes’ husband is a Parapsychology Professor at the local university.” Pulling his lips into a briefly contemplative frown, he eyed May pointedly, “That can’t be a coincidence, May. His wife dies, and suddenly the waiting room for the tenth level of Hell is dropping by for social calls?”

May chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating the accusations Coulson was levelling at a grieving man they knew very little about.

“Word on the grapevine was that Agent Forbes was involved with Agent Robbins,” she revealed, almost chuckling at Coulson’s shocked expression.

“Jake Robbins?” he checked, his mouth twisting a little more with his displeasure, “her partner? Do my agents even listen to that ‘no fraternisation’ rule anymore?”

May arched a brow as she countered quickly, “With all due respect, Phil, we have living, breathing proof running around the halls of this base singing Disney songs that suggests they really don’t.”

“Yes but Skye and Grant are… different…” he argued, sniffing as he waved one hand at May to indicate the conversation on that subject was over. “And don’t tell me you don’t love that little girl, Melinda, because I’ve heard you singing her lullabies. I’ve seen you kiss ‘owies’.”

Ignoring his goading, more than likely because it was all true, May cleared her throat.

“Hunter and Morse… some of the time… FitzSimmons…” she deadpanned, watching as Coulson merely scratched his chin, lost for a counter argument in the face of the truth.

“So… back to the case at hand, we need to figure out how we’re gonna deal with this… this… incident,” Coulson stated in his best ‘director of S.H.I.E.L.D.’ voice, “get Skye in here, will you? We need to figure out a few things, I…”

Eyes wide, Coulson and May turned towards the door as Lincoln abruptly came storming in, his face a mask of concern and his hands flying up erratically so that both agents considered taking cover in case any undue jolts of electricity should escape the man’s fingertips.

“Stand down, Agent Campbell! And… stand still,” Coulson demanded swiftly, looking over at May, who appeared equally confused by the interruption.

“Skye… I’m worried about her. She’s… she’s not herself, she’s… well, she’s… I’m pretty sure she’s having a nervous breakdown,” the young doctor stated bluntly. There was little time to attend to his concerns, however, as Ward came striding in behind, his own demeanour somewhat frenzied.

“Hey, has anybody seen Skye?”

“She’s not with you?” Coulson asked, a familiar sense of trepidation and dread beginning to wash over him.

“I left her in my office, relax Ward, she’s fine,” May replied dismissively, batting a hand at the younger agent.

Ward shook his head, his own concerns beginning to exponentially increase by the second. “No. I went by there on my way here. She’s not there, she’s not in our room, she’s not in the gym. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not _here_.”

Ward shook his head, looking almost helpless, and instantly May sprang to her feet.

“I told her to stay put in my office, I said… ‘don’t move’. Does she listen? Of course not. “

Sounding every inch the exasperated parent, May seemed poised to storm out of Coulson’s office to locate (and potentially strangle) the young woman in question, when another body came bustling into the room, a much smaller one clumsily balanced in her arms.

“Hello! Just me… and um… the youngest Ward, here,” Simmons began, her polite and somewhat overly whimsical tone at odds with the wild, terrified look in her eyes as she pushed through the growing crowd of agents assembled around Coulson’s desk.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Coulson stared around his team in confusion.

“Seriously, is this like the S.H.I.E.L.D. version of clowns in a station wagon? Even the damn Avengers don’t assemble this quickly.” Sighing resolutely, he pointed at Jemma, “Simmons… what is it?”

Hoisting a sleepy Vivian up in her arms, Jemma seemed visibly thrilled to find Ward present, and she wasted no time in handing over the child to her father.

“Oh well, the thing is… the thing is… that um…”

“Tonight, Jemma,” May growled, her fears for Skye’s safety already making her heart pound uncharacteristically loud in her ears. There was precious little time to waste, and Jemma did have a tendency to ramble that was infamous.

“Well… Vivi… that is to say, Vivian… was asleep in my bed, and I was at my desk looking over some reports and… and I heard her talking to somebody. Only I couldn’t see anyone there. I thought perhaps it was just an imaginary friend - I had one of those as child. His name was Jeremy, we lost touch when his parents sent him away to boarding school in Austria… and my mum said nine was far too old to be carrying on with that nonsense, but…” pausing to finally draw breath, she concluded, “Vivi said a man was talking to her, and… and she just wouldn’t be persuaded to settle. I tried reading a story, I… I sang songs… but she was insistent that there was a man there. Talking to her. In my room. And then… then she said his name was ‘Gawett’. Which I’m going to assume is toddler talk for… for… _you know who_.”

Frowning, Lincoln cocked his head as he inquired, “Voldemort?”

May rolled her eyes at precisely the same time that Coulson huffed an exasperated sigh and Ward shot the doctor an incredulous look.

“You _do_ have an MD, right?” Ward deadpanned, earning himself a scowl from Lincoln, who only seemed to be growing more agitated by the moment.

“Can anyone tell me who the H-E-L-L…” he shot a pointed look at Vivi as he spelled the word aloud, then continued, “we’re talking about here? And why we’re not more concerned by the fact I just told you a member of our team is having delusions?”

“She’s not delusional,” May objected, crossing her arms in front of her chest and immediately shooting Lincoln such a fierce glare that he was almost on the verge of backing down. However, he swallowed his admitted fear of the woman he knew could take apart any agent in the base in precisely three seconds flat, and directed an imploring look at Coulson.

“She’s seeing her mother,” he interjected, rubbing the nape of his neck with the palm of his hand as he was prone to do when he was stressed, “she said Jiaying…”

“The bad lady,” Vivian immediately piped up from her position nestled in her father’s arms. Suddenly, she seemed alert and awake, her eyes widening as she peered at Lincoln.

“Dat lady’s mean, daddy! She helped me climb up and… and then she pushed me over,” holding aloft her bandaged arm with an anguished frown on her baby face, Vivi added sadly, “and I got an ‘owie’, Gamma.”

She looked to May for reassurance. Surprised and also somewhat pleased that Vivian had chosen to include her in her rant of indignation, May stepped closer and caressed the girls’ cheek.

“I know, sweetheart. But don’t you worry, Gamma May’s gonna… gonna give her a very stern talking to.”

“Okay,” Vivian nodded sagely, her expression indicating that she felt her unprovoked attacker deserved nothing less. Leaning her head back against her father’s chest, she huffed out a sad little sigh.

“Viv, who was the man you were talking to?” Ward asked, rubbing her back gently in an attempt to coax her into talking, particularly as the room full of agents were all now staring at her with varying levels of impatience.

“Gawett,” Vivian leaned back to look up at her father, suddenly furrowing her brow in an apparent attempt to recall something. It was the face he recognised from his daughter every time she was asked where her shoe was, what she wanted for lunch, or who the mystery perpetrator of messes in her room might be. “He lives in my closet. He said… he said he’s very sorry, Daddy.”

Ward froze, clinging tight to Vivian’s body as though both their lives depended on it, and yet he couldn’t speak. He knew he should reassure her, speak to her gently as a father should about such terrifying things, but he simply couldn’t find the words, or his own voice. He had thought years ago that he was free of Garrett, given the finality of death; it appeared he could not have been more wrong.

“I… I don’t know what…” Lincoln began, shaking his head from side to side and then staring at Coulson, who seemed perhaps to be the least affected by Vivian’s declaration. “Who is Garrett?”

“Long story,” Coulson immediately shot back, sparing a sympathetic glance for Grant, who was holding Vivian close as she buried her face in his shoulder, “one we’ll gladly get to later. But right now, you all need to know a few things.”

“Number one, Skye is not crazy or stressed or hormonal or any of that other shit you’re contemplating,” May declared, pointing a warning finger at Lincoln, who backed off visibly with both hands raised.

“ _Gamma_!” Vivi protested, raising her head to peer at May in as stern a fashion as a sleepy four-year old could achieve, “bad word!”

“Number two,” Coulson interrupted, pausing before he looked at each team member in turn, something almost reluctant in his gaze, “ghosts, spirits, poltergeists… whatever you want to call them… they’re as real as you or me, and right now we know of at least one of them that wants to hurt Skye.”

“Mommy?” Vivi inquired, her eyes widening and watering as her bottom lip trembled. “Daddy, where did Mommy go?”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Daddy’s going to get her, I promise,” Ward assured her, rocking her gently and pressing a kiss to her cheek, where a steady stream of tears tripped her soft skin.

“We don’t know where she is,” Simmons pointed out, finally speaking out from her position on the couch, where she sat bolt upright, her hands grasping her knees. For a scientist as absorbed in her work as Jemma Simmons, the possibility that a whole other world existed that they had no understanding of was jolting to say the least.

“I do!” Vivian interjected, clearly a little peeved that the adults were not taking any notice of the very important information she had to impart. “Gawett said Mommy’s gone to the big house.”

The team was silent for a moment before Simmons finally spoke up.

“ _Prison_?” Jemma shook her head in confusion, earning a sigh and an eyeroll from Ward.

“Our house, sweetheart? Our new house?” Ward checked, watching with some relief as Vivian nodded her head. Turning around, Vivi shot the rest of the team a mildly smug glare, pleased that yet again her father seemed to know what she was talking about.

“Alright, we know where she is… Ward and May, go get her back,” Coulson directed, standing up and immediately beginning to stalk towards the door. “Lincoln, you’re with me.”

“Where are we going?” Lincoln pressed, clearly anxious as he shot a glance at May and Ward, “shouldn’t we be helping them get Skye back safely?”

“We’re going to pay a visit to Mr. Forbes,” Coulson declared, his expression darkening as he clapped Lincoln on the shoulder and gestured to the door, “see if we can’t find out if he has anything to do with the crazy stuff going on around here.”

Pressing a kiss to Vivian’s head, Ward craned his neck to address the little girl.

“Daddy has to go and help Mommy right now so you stay with…” looking around the room at the one remaining contestant, Ward sighed resolutely, “with Aunt Jemma, okay? You be a good girl, and go to sleep.”

“Will Mommy be home when I wake up?” Vivian asked, clinging onto Grant’s sweater as he carried her out of the office with Jemma almost jogging at his side to keep up.

“Yeah, baby. She will,” Ward promised his daughter, hoping against hope that it was a promise he could keep. He couldn’t imagine his life without Skye, and he didn’t want to think about Vivian growing up without her mother.

“Everything will be okay, darling,” Jemma agreed, shooting a pointed look at Ward as she added, “remember, Mummy and Daddy are practically superheroes.”

Vivi giggled, assuaged finally, and held out her arms to Jemma, who scooped the girl up once again without hesitation.

“Let’s see if perhaps I can find some cocoa, eh?” Jemma whispered into the child’s ear, grinning when Vivi nodded emphatically. “Uncle Fitz might even have some of those delicious tiny marshmallows you like.”

Ward watched in silence as Jemma walked away down the corridor with his daughter clutched to her chest, and he felt his heart flutter as his levels of anxiety soared. May approached behind him, but of course he sensed her presence a few seconds before she laid a hand in the centre of his back.

“It will be okay,” May soothed, her tone as strong and unwavering as always, “Skye would never give up without a fight, you know that.”

“I can’t believe something like this was going on with her right in front of me and I didn’t even notice,” he lamented, guilt flashing behind his eyes, adding to the troubled appearance of his gaze, “I’m her husband, for Christ sakes, May. I just thought maybe it was a little PTSD from what happened with Forbes. I never imagined…”

“How many people do you think imagine a loved one being haunted by psychotic, malevolent ghosts, Ward?” May queried, cocking her head as she surveyed him.

Ward shrugged, clearly unconvinced that he had not failed as a husband somehow; although he allowed that most people’s thoughts wouldn’t have instantly drifted to malicious entities. In truth, it was a concept he was finding more than a little difficult to swallow. He supposed there was a reason for the phrase ‘seeing is believing’, and he wasn’t quite there yet.  

“I just want her back, May. What was she thinking, running off like that?!”

Shooting him a wry smile, May scoffed, “You’ve met Skye, right?”

Managing a brief smile, Ward nodded in understanding; his wife’s impetuous and impulsive streak was one of the things he both loved and feared about her in equal measure. Skye had a propensity for finding and meeting trouble head on.

“Besides, she probably ran away believing that would keep you and Vivian safe. You’re all Skye cares about, Ward. You know that,” said May as they climbed aboard the quin jet and took their seats in the cockpit, side by side. Both seasoned pilots, they started to flick switches and pull levers even before clipping in their belts, and the small aircraft began to taxi out of the hanger onto the runway of the Playground in no time at all.

“She’ll be fine…” Ward stated, trying to infect a confidence in his voice that he did not feel. His fear was betrayed, however, when he pressed just a fraction of a second later, “Right?”

May nodded her head, eyes already fixed on the horizon.

“She just needs to sit tight for a while,” she replied, taking a moment to flash Ward a smile that could be considered predatory by some, “the Cavalry’s coming.”

 

**x-x-x**

This time, when the air turned frigid, Skye was ready for what was to come next.

She straightened up on the box she still perched on, her hands readying at her sides as though her powers might actually be of some use. Logically, she knew they would not be, but they were such an ingrained part of her natural defences now that she didn’t bother to lower her hands again.

“Come on, Casper, show yourself,” she demanded, all traces of fear gone, even though her breath billowed from her lips, white and cloudy. She started just a little when she heard a faint cracking sound, and her gaze shot to the lounge window as she realised that it was suddenly and quickly becoming encased in ice from the inside.

“Cool party trick,” she called out, annoyance flaring within her, “but we just got these windows replaced so, you break it, you buy it.”

Nothing happened. Skye tensed a little more. Then, a voice answered from behind her, so close that if the speaker had still been alive, their breath may have been hot on her neck.

“I’m a little past that point, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

Skye paled, standing up and spinning around so fast that she made her own stomach lurch. She stared incredulously at the spectre of John Garrett, who was beaming back at her as though they were suddenly the best of friends. He still wore his old, brown leather jacket and a black turtle neck, and there was not much about him that appeared to have changed on the surface.

“What the fuck?” Skye demanded, actually breaking into a series of giggles as hysteria threatened to overcome her, “don’t you people think I’ve suffered enough? Is this your last attempt to get me to hurl myself out the upstairs window or something?”

Holding up his hands by way of surrender, John raised both eyebrows. “Hey, I’m on your side, darlin’. As hard as that is to believe. I know I messed up, I…”

Eyes wide, Skye guffawed at the apparent lack of self-awareness shown by the spectre she thought she perhaps hated the most. “ _Messed up_? You messed up? You abused, tortured, and brainwashed my husband… He was a _child_ , Garret. A kid. And you took him and you used him, and you almost destroyed his life. _There aren’t words for how much I hate you_.”

She swept impatiently at the tears that tripped her cheeks, unwilling to let John see how he was getting to her, despite the pain that stabbed at her heart as she thought about all Ward had been through at the hands of his abuser. 

John scratched the back of his head and winced, “Yeah, look, about that, I’m sorry. I really am. Fuck, I’ve spent the last eight years paying for what I did, believe me. I know this might be hard to swallow but I helped Ward a few years back… and I’m here to help you now.”

Skye’s features contorted into a frown, and she suddenly realised that she understood Vivian’s ramblings from the previous night when she had climbed into bed with her parents. There had been a man in the closet after all. Skye felt awful for not believing her child, especially given her own interactions of late.

“ _It was you_ ,” she breathed, grimacing as she continued, “ _you_ were the monster in the closet. What the hell have you been saying to my kid? She’s a baby! Why have you been scaring her? Was tormenting her father not enough for you?”

“Hey, calm down now,” Garrett demanded, his lips twisting into a familiar frown, “I didn’t mean to scare the little rugrat. I was trying to warn you. I knew what was coming. Kids can see us when adults can’t. She was my only option.”

“Oh well I guess that makes it okay, then,” Skye scoffed, shaking her head hard and glaring at Garrett with folded arms, “you’re still one deluded, crazy son of a…”

“Okay, I get it, you hate me,” Garret cut in, his patience fraying finally, “and whilst that is well deserved, you need to listen to me right now.”

“Oh I need to…” Skye continued, her eyes narrowing as she prepared to launch into another rant; she had wanted to tell Garrett what she truly thought of him for years, ever since she had read Ward’s S.H.I.E.L.D. file and realised the extent of the abuse he had suffered at his mentor’s hands. However, she had assumed that was a possibility long since lost to her, given Garrett’s timely death. Now that she had a second opportunity to do it, she would be damned if she allowed that chance to slip through her fingers, whether she was in mortal peril or not.

“Will you just shut your pie hole for a God damn second?” Garrett shouted, eyes bulging as he glared at Skye, who actually did fall silent. Her mouth hung open though, as if she couldn’t quite believe the gall of the man who was yelling at her after all the sins he had committed in his life.

“Skye, they’re coming for you,” he whispered, something resembling fear flashing within his eyes, “she’s going to kill you… you have to get out of this house, now, before it’s too late.”

“My insane mother and Raina? Yeah. Not really shaking in my boots here, John,” Skye scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Folding her arms across her chest, she scuffed the tip of her shoe across the shiny wooden floor, refusing to look at Garrett again.

“You don’t understand, Skye… they’re not here because of you. He summoned them… he’s the one controlling them. And all of the hatred and bitterness they feel towards you is only fuelling their power, making them stronger.”

“He?” Forgetting momentarily her vow to hate the man before her, Skye regarded Garrett with a quizzical frown, understanding suddenly dawning as she remembered her earlier encounter with Agent Forbes’ ghost. She spoke in barely a whisper, her own conscience and guilt resurfacing. “ _Emily’s husband_ … he’s doing all of this. Because he blames me for her death?”

Garrett nodded his head, his eyes conveying the conviction in his next words, “And he’s _pissed_ , Skye. He’s irrational. He’s hurt. That’s a shitty combination.”

“What would you know about feelings?” Skye shot back, lips twisted into a snarl.

“Like I said, I’m on your side here, sweetheart,” he repeated, offering her what he hoped was a warm smile. However, it looked a lot like Skye was nauseated by the gesture, if the expression on her face was anything to go by.

Unable to prevent his trademark grin from surfacing, John added, “Of course, this whole thing would blow over a hell of a lot quicker if he knew his wife was doing the wild thing with her partner... But, I guess that’s married life for ya, huh?”

Her expression withering, Skye retorted, “Maybe for you. But not for me and Grant. We’re just fine, thanks.”

Garrett nodded his head sagely and shrugged, as if Grant and Skye hadn’t even figured into his summation of marriage.

“Yeah, well he’s crazy about you. Always has been. Ward’s a good boy, and he’s loyal to a fault.”

Staring silently, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, Skye huffed out a sigh of immense irritation.

“I know my husband. So how about we make this less about Grant and more about my dead fan club?!”

“You need to get out of here, is what I’m saying… _repeatedly_ …” Garret said, emphasising the last word with a pointed smirk.

“I can’t,” Skye countered, readopting her perch on the overturned box and then folding her arms to demonstrate her reluctance to leave. “Maybe they’re not here of their own free will but they’re still tied to me. They still hate me. Wherever I go, they follow.”

“So go to Dunkin’ Donuts or the Arby’s down the street, I don’t care!” Garret argued, running one hand through his hair in exasperation, which was a mildly comical sight to behold when it was a ghost doing so, “just get out of this house. Be somewhere public.”

Almost physically pained to admit that John was right, Skye rose slowly from the box, digging her hand in her pocket for her car keys. “Fine.”

“Oh, holy Mary mother of Jesus. She sees sense!” Garrett crooned, deflecting her glare with a chuckle of amusement. “Hey, when you’re dead you have to get your kicks where you can.”

Skye had taken only one step forwards when, all of a sudden, the floor beneath them began to shake, the tremors growing in strength by the second.

Garrett’s eyes grew wide and he peered anxiously around the room as though searching for something he hoped not to find. “Is that you?”

An enraged shriek left Skye’s lips at the accusation. “ _No_! No, it is not me!”

“Shit.”

Garrett appeared visibly nervous and that in itself made Skye uneasy. First of all, he was dead, so whatever was serious enough to bother a dead guy was probably something that should bother her. Second, Garrett was the most callous, cold-hearted asshole she’d ever met, and if something perturbed him then Skye knew she should probably be giving serious thought to running fast and far away.

Suddenly stilling for a moment, Garrett’s gaze ticked behind Skye to the hallway, from which a rush of frosty air whipped up around the young woman, forcing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand erect.

For once, Skye found that she didn’t dare turn around to meet her foe. By the stricken look stretching Garrett’s features taught, she quickly deduced that was the right decision.

“ _She’s here_.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue to go now, guys! Thanks for sticking with us. 
> 
>  
> 
> A shout out to the always glorious, Meredith. You know who you are. Funnily enough, so do we. ;)

**“I’ve Grown Familiar with Villains that Live in my Head”**

**Five**

**x-x-x**

 

There was nothing left to do, no other options left to explore, and so Skye simply bolted for the front door. She swept past Garrett, who was turning in a full circle as he attempted to gauge just where Emily might choose to materialise. Skye reached for the door handle, a relieved gasp escaping her lips as her fingers found purchase with the metal. She managed to twist the handle and wrench the door half open before she felt herself being picked up several feet in the air by an unseen force. The door slammed shut, the lock sliding in place right before Skye’s eyes. She let out a cry and barely registered the fact that Garrett was calling her name before she found herself being tossed backwards at speed.

Her back hit the wall of the hallway hard and the air left Skye’s lungs. She managed, however, to drop onto her knees as opposed to flat on her face, and she elected to be thankful for small mercies.

“Come on now, sweetheart,” Garrett called out, striding into the hallway and shooting a quick glance at Skye to assess her wellbeing. “Emily, isn’t it? I know being dead sucks but this little temper tantrum isn’t really necessary, right?”

Grimacing as she clutched at her side and blew out a breath, Skye glanced over at Garrett, finding her loathing for him subdued somewhat by her desire to get out of the house.

All was silent for a moment, until the workmen’s tool boxes and large tins of paint suddenly jumped into the air like popcorn kernels, leaping across the room as if of their own accord.

“We just had this floor varnished, asshole!” Skye yelled, enraged at the sight of paint ebbing out of the cans and oozing across the beautifully restored, ornate parquet flooring.

“Hey, Martha Stewart…” Garrett frowned at her disdainfully, realising that pissing off the murderous ghost even further was probably not in the woman’s best interests. “You wanna zip it?! Ward and May are on their way over here right now, we just need to sit tight. Well, you need to sit tight.”

Ignoring the renewed tremble beneath her feet and the sound of glass shattering from somewhere at the back of the house, she regarded Garrett curiously, keen to have her revenge for the ‘Martha’ comment.

“Hey Lassie, what do you know about it?”

“I paid another visit to your kid,” Garrett revealed, ignoring the look of fury Skye directed at him, “she’s smart. Obviously gets it from her father.”

“Hey, now just a second…” Skye began irately, trailing off as there was a sudden thump that resounded around the hallway, seemingly coming from the ceiling just above her head.

“Try the door,” Garrett instructed, walking backwards with his eyes glued to the ceiling as he shooed Skye to the front door with a wave of his hand. Nodding, Skye crossed the floor as quickly as possible, picking her way between puddles of paint. She reached the front door and immediately set to sliding the bolt open, however, she found that no matter how hard she tugged and pulled, she couldn’t force it to budge even a fraction. She gritted her teeth and shook her head before heading back into the lounge and attempting to push up the window. Again, she discovered that, despite her best efforts, the lock remained shut tight, impossible to move even with her powers . Her frustration mounting, Skye touched the window pane and sent out a jolt of power just strong enough to shatter the glass. However, as quickly as the cracks formed, they sealed back over, well before the shards her powers had created could fragment and fall. A few seconds later and the window looked as good as new, as though it had never been compromised in the first place. Skye snarled, throwing back her head and closing her eyes in a moment of despair.

“No dice,” she puffed out, directing a look over her shoulder at Garrett, who cursed under his breath.

Pulling her phone back out of her pocket, Skye checked once more to see if she had a signal, cursing under her breath when she found her phone still struggling to make a connection. Striding out into the hall she peered around the rooms, wondering if trying her luck with the back door or the basement would be more beneficial.

“Basement?” Skye queried aloud, practically hating herself that she was even speaking to Garrett, let alone seeking his approval. But back in the day, he’d been one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s top agents, and she wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his experience out in the field didn’t vastly overshadow hers. Ward was the best because he’d learned from the best, no matter how twisted and evil Garrett’s reasons for teaching him had been.

“Worth a shot, I guess… just stay away from the attic. Nothing good ever happens in attics.”

Before either could speak again, Skye suddenly gasped as she felt herself seized by some invisible force, which held her practically paralysed in its grip. Eyes wide, she glanced down to find her feet slowly lifting from the floor.

“Well shit, that’s not good…” Garrett stated, eyes widening as he stared at Skye, hovering several feet now above the floor.

“Can’t you like… do some…” Skye threw out her hands in a gesture Garrett assumed was supposed to encompass the use of some sort of ghostly powers.

“I don’t even know what that was but I’m pretty damn sure I can’t do it,” retorted Garrett. However, he did disappear from view momentarily, only to rematerialize seconds later right in front of Skye, who was breathing hard as panic began to set in.

She opened her mouth, presumably to speak again, and that was precisely the moment she felt her body being dragged unceremoniously up the stairs, although she never once made actual physical contact with the steps. She didn’t even scream as she disappeared but Garrett could see the fear alive on her face.

From somewhere upstairs, a door slammed hard. Then, seconds later, Skye did begin to scream.

Starting up the staircase, Garrett hissed, “I’m too old and dead for this shit.”

 

**x-x-x**

The house was in darkness save for one light in an upstairs window, and as Lincoln and Coulson lingered on the front porch – the latter with his finger pressed insistently on the bell - it was appearing that whoever was inside was not looking for company.

“Want me to try round back?” Lincoln asked, watching as Coulson shook his head and tried one final time to rouse Mr. Forbes, pressing three times in short succession on the button.

Lips set into a tight line, Coulson sighed in annoyance. Stepping back from the stoop, he peered up at the house before drawing his gun and gesturing to the door.

“We haven’t got time for this,” he stated, indicating the hinges of the heavy, wooden door. “Can you… you know… zap it?”

Pursing his lips and shrugging, Lincoln replied, “I can try.”

Usually, kicking in or throwing doors off their hinges was something Skye did without batting an eyelid; although there was sometimes a playful fight between husband and wife to see who could gain entry first. Skye with her powers, or Ward with an exceedingly deadly, well-placed kick.

Lincoln’s palm hovered above the doorframe for a few seconds before he gritted his teeth and released a surge of electrical charge that had Coulson taking a step backwards in retreat. Blue sparks showered the Inhuman as the electricity passed through the metal of the lock, however, the door did not budge.

“Apparently not,” Lincoln groaned, shooting an apologetic look at Coulson, who bobbed his head.

“Old school, then,” he decided, not even hesitating before he angled the nose of his gun at the lock and delivered two clean shots to it. The door swung open whilst several dogs began to bark across the street, clearly perturbed by the ruckus. Lights started to flash on in neighbouring houses, and Coulson realised that they would need to act quickly now to prevent being interrupted by the local Sherriff’s department. Whilst S.H.I.E.L.D. was now a recognised government agency, once again working within the confines of the law, Coulson highly doubted that any officer would believe that they needed to interrogate Mr. Forbes regarding supernatural activity.

Coulson kicked the door fully open and entered the hallway to check for danger, before he glanced over his shoulder and gestured for Lincoln to follow with a toss of his head. The Inhuman obeyed the silent orders, his hands raised in front of his body in case the need to defend himself arose. Although on paper Mr. Forbes was nothing more than a University lecturer with a penchant for unusual charms and trinkets, in reality he was apparently a dangerous man.

“Elliot Forbes?” Coulson demanded as he moved from the hallway to the lounge, barely pausing to take in the state of the house, which looked as though it had been recently burgled thanks to the trash and stacks of papers strewn across the floor, plus the upturned furniture.

Gesturing for Lincoln to take the living room to their left, Coulson continued on down the hall towards the staircase, his gun drawn and in his hand.

“Mr. Forbes!” he shouted, “I’m Agent Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D., we need to talk to you, Sir.”

Hearing footsteps upstairs, Coulson paused, waiting until Lincoln had returned and was once again at his side before he advanced up the stairs.

The sound of sobbing drifted to both men’s ears, and they crept up the stairs until they had made their way across the upstairs hall towards the only open door.

Coulson advanced forwards, a frown on his face as he entered the room to see a hunched over figure sitting cross-legged in the centre of the floor.

“Mr. Forbes?”

Lincoln winced at the smell that assaulted their senses, momentarily flapping his hand in front of his face, “Geez, smells like someone smoked the biggest joint in the world in here.”

“Mr. Forbes… I’m Agent Coulson… You and I need to talk, sir.”

“Go away,” the man, who was hunkered down in the middle of the floor in the bedroom, sobbed, “just get out… you’ve already taken everything I have…”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Coulson replied, his gun still raised as he skirted around the edge of the unmade double bed, trying to get a closer look at whatever it was Elliot Forbes was crouched over.

“We have reason to believe that you’re involved in a…” Lincoln paused, struggling to think of a way to phrase his accusation that wouldn’t immediately make him sound like the crazy one, “an incident of… a… nature…Of an unnatural… I mean… an event that…”

“We think you’re summoning ghosts to haunt our friend,” Coulson finished, shooting Lincoln an exasperated look that more than communicated the fact that he had lost all patience.

“Go to Hell,” the man snarled, wiping clumsily at his face as he turned to face them from his position kneeling on the floor in front of a small coffee table laden with candles and artefacts.

“You ruined my life… you ruined Emilly’s life. S.H.I.E.L.D. deserve to pay for what they’ve done…”

Coulson frowned in irritation, able to sympathise with the man’s loss but immeasurably angry that his rage and desire for retribution had been misplaced onto somebody who wouldn’t ever consciously hurt another.

“The woman you’re doing all this to? She has a husband who loves her, a little four-year old daughter… do you really believe this is what Emily would want?”

The man climbed to his feet and immediately Coulson’s gun was trained on him as he took a step towards the agents. “I can’t… I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t think straight. All I see is her… I can’t… I can’t even say goodbye to her, you bastards won’t even let me see her.”

“That’s not in your best interests,” Lincoln growled, his temper finally igniting at the admissions of Mr. Forbes, “take it from someone who was there.”

Surprisingly, Elliot Forbes only threw back his head and laughed, long and hearty, his hands actually clutching at his stomach as he did so.

“You think I would believe a word you say?” he demanded, his voice a high, unhinged whisper, “do you think I’d do that?”

Lincoln shot a glance at Coulson, one eyebrow arched, and the senior agent could only shrug in response. He didn’t lower his gun and Elliot made no further moves towards them, but Coulson knew that whilst the man himself might not be dangerous, the forces he wielded most certainly were.

“You need to end this now,” Lincoln demanded, his voice steady and controlled. He thought of his friends – of Skye and Grant, and the bundle of energy that was their young daughter – and he felt his blood beginning to boil at the realisation that someone was indeed trying to take everything away from them. He had known Skye for a number of years now, and he had quickly come to the conclusion that no one deserved happiness in life more than her. She had been through so much, overcome even more still, and yet emerged the other side as a woman who continually fought for what was right. There wasn’t a selfish bone in her body and Lincoln knew she didn’t deserve to suffer the way she had been of late. He could only regret that he had added to that.

“Finish it, or tell us how to finish it ourselves,” Lincoln continued, barely glancing at Coulson as he called upon his dormant powers and allowed an impressive spark of blue electricity to travel the fingers of one hand to the next.

Watching the crackles of electricity with a mixture of fear and professional interest, the professor swallowed hard and glanced back towards the table where his ritual was in play.

“I… I don’t know how to. I mean, they… they’ve got a mind of their own, they don’t listen to me.” He sounded vaguely panicked as he explained, “Even if I end this, I don’t know if that will make them stop.”

Now thoroughly bored of the conversation and more concerned about his friends, Lincoln cocked his head and sent a much larger, crackling bolt of electricity into the air around them. Using a ‘what would Ward do’ mentality, he took a step closer and eyed the man with obvious intent, “How about you try? Before we take matters into our own hands.”

He emphasized the word ‘hands’ with yet another burst of power, and Mr. Forbes’ eyes grew wide as he felt the hair on his head stand on end as if now caught up in a static charge.

“You’ve got five seconds to make a decision before I start blowing candles out like it’s my Sweet Sixteen,” Coulson gestured over towards the table, eyebrows raised as he tried to prompt the man into assisting them. Admittedly they had no idea what they were doing in such instances as this; it wasn’t as if the paranormal was included in the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents’ handbook.

Mr. Forbes faced both Coulson and Lincoln down in a manner that, at any other time, both would have considered admirable.

Voice wavering but resolve steady, he declared, “I don’t know how to stop it… and even if I did… I wouldn’t want to.”

 

**x-x-x**

“Hells bells…” Garrett ground out, his gaze wandering up the staircase. Mere minutes ago, Skye had been hauled rather abruptly up it by invisible hands, and Garret was beginning to get mighty peeved by the whole situation. He gritted his teeth, realising that he was going to have to follow in her wake, especially if he intended to make a go of the whole ‘penitence’ thing.

Taking a moment to concentrate on projecting his ghostly self to the upstairs hall, Garrett frowned as he found himself standing on the landing overlooking the staircase. There was no sign of Skye and the low level shaking of the house he assumed was more to do with the ghostly activity consuming the property rather than her powers. Walking quickly down the hall, he rolled his eyes as every single door slammed closed the moment he approached it.

“You can save the cheap parlour tricks, sweetheart. I _AM_ one of you, remember?!” he barked out. Relief washed over him when he sensed a live presence at the end of the long hall way.

His image suddenly flickered from view and he reappeared on the other side of the door in the master bedroom, just in time to see Skye – still forcibly levitating – pressed against the far wall, struggling against her assailant’s grip.

“Put her down, now… gently,” Garrett growled, again using his own supernatural powers to move in front of the young woman. Reaching out into what seemed to Skye to be thin air, he grasped his hand around the unseen shoulder of her attacker, and almost at once the angry ghost of Emily Forbes was visible to her victim.

If at all possible, she seemed to have decayed even more since the last time Skye had laid eyes on her. Flesh hung in tatters from her neck and her cheek on one side, and her skin had adopted an almost greenish hue this time, as though she had been dead far longer than was the case.

“No…” Emily retorted, her head whipping around so that she could face Garrett, who winced at the sight of her.

“Look, you got hurt because of S.H.I.E.L.D., you’re pissed, believe me, nobody gets that more than I do,” Garrett reasoned, one hand subconsciously drifting to his side, “but you’re barking up the wrong tree here. This kid wasn’t the one who killed you. Hydra killed you.”

Skye shot a glance at Garrett, her expression half way between desperation at the situation and gratitude for his attempts to save her skin. She may not like him even remotely, but he was all she had in that moment.

 

**x-x-x**

 

After abandoning the quin jet in a park just three blocks from the house, Ward and May proceeded to run full pelt along the sidewalk, having already negotiated back yards and garden fences with ease. It had pained Ward considerably to see the swing-set in the playground - empty swings sent arching up and over the top of the frame at the force of the aircraft’s engines.

He had thought the first time he set foot in the park might be with his wife and daughter. Helping Vivian climb the steps to the slide and catching her at the bottom, or pushing her gently on the swing set as she giggled with delight. He hadn’t foreseen it being in the dead of night, with him clad in his tac. gear, armed with a small arsenal.

“She’s gonna be fine, Ward.” May intercepted his worried expression as the pair finally drew to a halt outside the house that was plunged into darkness.

He nodded silently, jaw tensed as they each ran analytical gazes across the property. Since Ward’s return to the unit seven years ago, the pair had worked a countless number of missions together. At first grudgingly but then gradually a familiar and trusting partnership had developed; and not least of all, they had found common ground in their adoration of Skye, and then Vivian.

“You take the back and I’ll take the front?” May suggested, arching an eyebrow as Ward shook his head firmly.

“No. We don’t know what we’re gonna come up against, May. We’re safer together. Our weapons probably won’t be effective against whatever’s in there, and my powers may not be either.”

Patting her pocket, where her friend’s ‘supplies’ were stowed safely away, she smiled, “Don’t worry, I brought reinforcements.”

Beginning to head up the front yard towards the door of the house, Ward turned and afforded her a brief smirk, “Well, you are the Cavalry.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that?!” she huffed in mild exasperation, placing her hand on the door knob and testing it slowly. Nodding her head at Ward, they exchanged silent hand gestures that relayed their immediate plan.

“You prefer ‘Gamma’?” he whispered, grinning as she rolled her eyes and shot him her patented glare of death.

Without exchanging another word with the woman at his side, Ward reeled back and then delivered a rapid, brutal kick to the centre of the door panel. The frame splintered immediately and the door swung open wide, however, before either of the Specialists could duck inside the hallway, the door slammed shut in their faces. Ward experimentally pressed his shoulder into the wood, groaning when he found it immovable once again. He glanced at May, who appeared to be muttering something under her breath in a foreign language that was not one of those at Ward’s disposal.

“What now?” he hissed, raking a hand through his hair as he glanced at the nearest window and momentarily contemplated smashing it with the handle of his Icer. He suspected that perhaps that would prove fruitless also, but he was willing to take apart the house brick by brick if he stood even the slightest chance of reaching Skye.

May only widened her eyes infinitesimally as she glanced at Ward, continuing her frantic whispering as she stretched out one hand to the frame. Her fingers brushed against it almost delicately and her eyelids fluttered closed. She took a moment in silence to suck in a breath, and then she opened her eyes again to glance at Ward.

“My friend taught me an old Chinese blessing,” she explained, leaning both palms flat against the door as she pressed on it experimentally, “he thought we might come up against something like this…”

“Did he say what to do if it didn’t work?” Ward demanded, his patience fraying as time elapsed, making it increasingly more likely that they would not get to Skye in time.

May pursed her lips and shook her head, and Ward’s heart plummeted.

 

**x-x-x**

 

Crouching down against the wall, Skye rubbed her neck as she fought to catch her breath, certain that the imprint of Emily’s ghostly fingers must be emblazoned on her skin.

Garrett gestured to her discretely, keeping Emily talking as he managed to point towards the door without the spectre intercepting the signal. 

Skye climbed to her feet, hesitantly taking a step sideways as she kept her eyes trained on the back of the woman. But, still unfamiliar with the house and its eccentricities, she was unaware that her next step would elicit a loud creak from the floorboards, and almost immediately Emily spun around, a sickening smile breaking out across her grotesque face.

“And where do you think you’re going?” she snapped, no more than looking at the bedroom door before it slammed shut resolutely.

“Emily… you don’t want to do this. You came to me, you told me he was controlling you. This isn’t what you want,” Skye reasoned, frowning as she watched Garrett suddenly look momentarily thoughtful, and a small smile twitched at his lips.

He offered Skye a wink of reassurance before he flickered from view, leaving her alone with the homicidal ghost.

“Great. Thanks a bunch, John!” she yelled into the air, shaking her head in annoyance at ever having contemplated trusting him.

“I didn’t want to die either,” Emily countered in her raspy tone, “I had my whole life ahead of me… I had so much more to see… so much to give…”

“I’m sorry, I will never stop being sorry,” pleaded Skye, her eyes shining in the moonlight with pooling tears. She kept walking backwards as best she could, hoping that she would eventually bump into the door and would perhaps be able to fumble her way out into the hallway.

“And it will never be enough,” Emily finished, and she raised her head to survey Skye with a twisted sort of smile spread across her blood-spattered lips. She seemed to shimmer and blink as she ran at Skye full pelt, and all the terrified Inhuman could do to defend herself was fling her arms up to shield her face. Emily stopped just short of connecting with her body physically, but she raised one hand and Skye found herself caught in that invisible vice once again.

“Let me go, please…” Skye begged, adrenaline and fear both coursing through her veins at once, “Emily, I…”

“We’re done talking,” snarled the spirit, and she at once clenched her fingers then twisted her hand, which resulted in Skye’s legs buckling beneath her. There was a sudden, resounding snap as her right arm bent at an unnatural angle.

Skye let out a scream and collapsed to her knees, her eyes glued to her throbbing limb.

“I will break you apart, a little bit at a time,” Emily hissed, and she leaned forwards until the tip of her nose brushed against Skye’s, and the agent was forced to squeeze her eyes closed to avoid staring death in the face.

“Son of a bitch,” Skye groaned as a burning ache begin to engulf her wrist. An exploratory flex of her fingers sent shock waves of pain shooting down the back of her hand, and she gritted her teeth to keep from making another sound. She just managed to slide up the wall and find her feet once again.

Her breath drifted from her lips in those eerie clouds of white, yet when she searched the room frantically for any sign of Emily, she found herself alone.

 

**x-x-x**

 

“Can you hurry this up?” Ward pressed, sighing irritably as May just shot him a glare and continued on with her incantation.

“Maybe I can just… melt the fucking hinges off,” he pondered aloud, both Specialists suddenly stepping back and somewhat comically drawing their guns in unison as the door handle turned of its own volition.

Weapons aimed, they took a step back as the door swung open. Both May and Ward stared aghast as Garrett stood, beaming smile in place, on the threshold of the porch and hallway.

“You kids selling Girl Scout cookies? Just the one box for me. Gotta maintain my girlish figure,” he drawled, his smile almost sentimental as his gaze came to rest on Ward. “How the hell have you been, boy?”

His glare murderous, Ward stared the apparition of his former tormentor down for only a moment before he lifted his gun and fired a shot square into the ghost’s forehead.

Garrett blinked dismissively, wincing as some form of discomfort temporarily passed over him. Shaking his head, he rubbed at the gunshot wound that was rapidly closing up beneath his fingers, and then John arched an eyebrow as Ward stepped right through him into the hallway. May followed quickly behind him, doing a much better job of containing her loathing of the dead agent.

“The little wifey’s upstairs,” Garrett informed them, watching as Ward ran up the expansive mahogany staircase, taking the steps two or even three at a time.

“You here to haunt her too?” May demanded, her eyes narrowing as her fingers slid into her pocket and she seemed to withdraw a small, round, shiny object, which Garrett’s gaze passed over without concern. After all, he was there to hurt no one; he’d had his fill of that in life.

“Just trying to make amends,” he countered, standing perfectly still as May ran her probing gaze up and down his body before turning away in disgust.

“Don’t get in my way,” she warned, stalking further into the house, weapons hot and irritation rolling off her.

Chuckling, Garrett shook his head as he whispered, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

**x-x-x**

The basement was in total darkness, but that hardly bothered Emily anymore. Not now that she was the thing to be feared.

She found herself at the foot of the wooden staircase with just a brief thought, and she set out immediately towards the corner of the room. Although there was a smile upon her face, she felt very little save for the rage that drove her – forced her onwards relentlessly and into committing deeds more cruel and terrifying than the last. She supposed that was her lot now.

Appearing in front of the new boiler – labels and stickers still attached – Emily reached out and clasped her hand around the gas supply pipe. She stared at it unflinchingly as she wrenched it free of the boiler. Immediately, the slow, insidious hiss of gas ebbing into the room pierced the silence.

Emily disappeared moments later, leaving the noxious fumes to flood the basement. As the door at the top of the staircase swung slowly open, the house too began to fill.

 

**x-x-x**

 

“Skye?” Ward yelled, opening every door as he strode down the hall in a desperate search for his wife, “Skye?”

He paused suddenly when he heard her call out to him, and immediately he ran towards the door of their bedroom, side-stepping paint cans and ladders left by their construction team.

“Hey, handsome,” Raina crooned as she appeared in front of him and placed her hand in the centre of his chest. Ward’s eyes grew wide as his body registered the contact - a sudden chill passing through him.

“Get out of my way,” he growled, suddenly looking up as Skye hammered on the bedroom door. He was thrilled to hear her calling out to him again, even though she sounded stricken with fear. She was alive and that was all that mattered.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Raina purred, blinking back into focus immediately in front of Ward, who stopped short, reluctant to try to step through the ghost.

“You’re not a friend, you never were,” he said simply, barely able to spare a thought for the dead woman when he heard Skye call frantically to him again. His heart seized at the terror he detected in her voice, and he instantly berated himself for not having realised sooner what was going on. There was so much more he could have done to save it all coming to this, if only he had believed Skye when she had first mentioned her mother, instead of chalking everything up to stress. Swallowing down his guilt, Ward pushed forwards and stopped in front of the door to what was to be their own bedroom, his hands hovering over the panels as though he sought physical contact with Skye through the wood somehow.

“Baby, can you open the door?” he demanded, jiggling the handle hard and finding it stuck fast. He grimaced, rolled his eyes and let out a growl; he was quickly growing bored of the spirits and their parlour tricks.

“It won’t budge,” Skye called back, sounding so frustratingly close and yet also so far away.

“Can you quake it open?” Ward asked, shooting a glare at Raina, who was giggling to herself with one hand pressed demurely over her mouth.

“No, I can’t,” she replied, trying and failing to keep the panic out of her voice.

Ward exhaled in a measured fashion, trying to take stock of his options, and then he pressed his palm to the wood as he spoke through the infuriatingly solid barrier. “It’s okay. We’re gonna think of something. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Raina made gagging sounds, performing a pantomime of shoving her index finger down her throat as Ward turned to look at her sharply. He was not nearly intimidated or spooked enough by her existence for Raina’s liking.

“I’m pretty sure my wrist is broken, but I’m okay… _I love you_ ,” Skye added the declaration desperately, and Grant’s heart broke at not being able to comfort her.

“I love you too, baby. I’m gonna get you out of there, I swear…” Ward promised her, although unsure of how exactly he was going to fulfil his word. But he’d find a way - Grant Ward was nothing if not resourceful.

“You know, I’m actually gonna throw up here. Who knew ghosts could toss cookies?!” Raina taunted them, leaning back against the wall and looking him up and down with almost amorous intent. “Six years, and you still got those pathetic heart eyes for her… Fuck, that’s sad, Ward. You could have pretty much any woman you wanted, you know that, right?”

“Shut up, Raina,” Ward said dismissively, running a hand through his hair as he tried to formulate a plan even over the sound of her chatter. Shooting Raina a sideways glance, he suddenly recalled the training sessions he’d been leading for the S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits, and an idea flashed into his mind. Leaning closer to the door, he tried his best to keep his voice low, “Skye, get away from the door.”

“You know, I had like the biggest crush on you back then,” Raina began to reminisce, laughing softly as she rolled her eyes at the admission, “what am I saying? Of course you knew.”

Shrugging as if he couldn’t care less, Ward replied, “Everyone knew. Subtlety never was your strong point, and like I said, I’m everyone’s type. You just weren’t mine.”

The cocky smirk he flashed in her direction seemed to instantly strike a nerve, and he watched with a sliver of satisfaction as her features knit into a glower. Apparently, the dead did still care.

“I never wanted you,” he shook his head as though disgusted by the idea, folding his arms across his chest and turning so his back was to the bedroom door. “I only ever wanted Skye. She’s all I ever could want.”

Narrowing his eyes as though attempting to jog his own memory, Ward cocked his head as he echoed Raina’s own words from a time so long passed that it almost seemed like another life. “I guess… _it’s love_.”

“Pitiful, that’s what it is,” Raina growled, eyes flashing dangerously as she stared at Ward, who only seemed to grow more amused by her ire.

“You really want to know what’s pitiful?” Ward inquired, tipping his head slightly as he surveyed Raina, who seemed to be almost blinking in and out of sight, like a flickering old TV pciture.

“You, Raina,” he finished, injecting every last ounce of loathing and fury he felt into his voice as he practically spat in the ghost’s face, “you thinking that I could ever see you as anything else but John’s sad, lonely lapdog, looking to hump my leg…”

Ward had barely managed to get the last word out before Raina released a shriek, her anger a palpable entity as she flung up both her hands in Ward’s direction. He felt himself lifting off his feet and a surge of satisfaction coursed through him, even as his body hurtled with speed towards the bedroom door. He flew through the wood with a grunt and landed on the floor with a subsequent pained moan, after rolling a few times as a consequence of his own momentum.

Raina stood in the doorway, glowering down at Grant’s body whilst he slowly raised his own knees and attempted to sit up.

“Grant!” Skye called in alarm, racing to her husband’s side and dropping down next to him. Her injured arm was pulled in tight to her chest in a protective gesture, but she used her free hand to stroke his forehead, where blood trickled from the wound Raina had managed to inflict upon him.

“Told you I’d get through the door…” Grant moaned, pressing his elbows against the floorboards as he tried again to lever himself into a sitting position.

Lifting his head, he gazed out into the hall, happy to see Raina flicker away in disgust. It seemed the old adage of a ‘woman scorned’ rang true in the next life, too.

“You’re crazy, Grant!” Skye accused, helping him to brush splinters of wood and plaster off his tac. gear. He shot her a vaguely amused smile.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, looking her over analytically and reaching up to cup her cheek to assess her for injuries. Aside from the wrist she guarded against her chest, she appeared unharmed. Ward brushed his thumb over her cheek and leaned in to press a relieved kiss to her lips. Resting his forehead gently against hers, he curled his hand around the back of her head and held her close, both seeking and offering comfort. Skye clung to him tightly, her good hand against his cheek.

Attempting to lighten the moment, he teased, “But hey, _you_ married me.”

Managing a brief puff of amusement, Skye drew back only enough to meet his gaze as she replied playfully, “Well, I’m not exactly known for making great decisions, Ward. But just so you know? _I’d do it all over again_.”

Ward’s eyes darkened and he sank his top teeth into his bottom lip as he regarded Skye, with guilt crashing across his features with surprising force.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to listen to you,” he apologised, his thumb smoothing over her cheek again and scrubbing away a streak of dirt, “and I’m sorry that I dismissed it all when you tried to tell me about Jiaying.”

“Grant…” Skye began, shaking her head and attempting to stop him with a gentle hand rested against his chest. However, Grant was clearly not to be deterred, and he forced himself onto his knees as he tugged Skye into his side. He paused and planted a kiss on the crown of her head, taking a few seconds just to breathe her in and feel thankful that he had reached her in time, despite everything.

“No, I have to say this,” he protested, cutting her off as she attempted to speak again, “I’m your husband, and you should be able to come to me before anyone else, but I let you down. I won’t ever stop being sorry for that.”

“Really, Ward…” Skye started once more, grimacing as Ward pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.

“For the record, I never thought you were crazy,” he stated, such certainty and honesty resounding in his tone that Skye momentarily found herself melting at his words. “If you’re angry at me, I understand. Hell, I probably deserve it, but I just want you to know that I will never, ever doubt you again.”

“That’s great,” Skye cut in, her eyes searching the room instead of Ward’s face, “but I’m pretty sure you can apologise to me later, once we’re no longer sitting ducks for the three terrifying, pissed off ghosts that want to kill me.”

“Girl’s right, Ward,” a familiar voice cut in from just over Grant’s shoulder, and he found that all his muscles had coiled before he had really registered Garrett’s presence. “I’m pretty sure the Corpse Bride has turned on the gas. They’re gonna blow this place.”

“We need to get out of here, now!” Ward’s steps were suddenly urgent, and he placed his arm around Skye’s waist to hurry her along. The pair made their way from the bedroom out into the hall, where the unmistakable stench of gas was already pricking at their heightened, Inhuman senses.

“Where’s May?” Ward asked, hating himself for deeming to speak to the ghost of the man who had almost ruined his life; although, of course he could not know just how instrumental Garrett had been in bringing about Coulson’s change of heart many years before.

“She’s uh… chairing a mothers’ meeting downstairs,” looking at Skye with an expression that bordered on sympathy, John added, “I thought Ward’s momma was crazy, but yours is… especially dedicated to the fruitcake cause.”

“Yeah, thanks. I got that… round about the time she tried to strangle me to death,” Skye responded bitterly as she followed Ward down the stairs, her hand clasped in his.

Garrett trailed behind them in an apparent attempt to act as look out.

“Nothing like a mother’s love, huh?!”

 

**x-x-x**

“I know you’re here,” growled May, her fists readied at her sides as she paced the lounge, eyes shining with anger. “Show yourself, instead of acting like a coward.”

She stood still in the centre of the room, closing her eyes for just a fraction of a second as she attuned herself to her surroundings, hoping to detect another presence. She didn’t have long to wait.

There was a faint rustling sound over her shoulder – one so quiet and brief that most would have missed it – but May expertly managed to dodge a flying projectile before it connected hard with the side of her head. She spun around on her heels, eyes following the full paint tin as it rolled away across the floor with its lid displaced, bleeding orange paint onto the floorboards.

“Subtle,” May said, crossing her arms as Jiaying stepped through the doorway, hands clasped behind her back and unnatural smile firmly in place.

“You know I’ve never been one for subtly, Agent May,” the ghost almost chided. She came to a halt several feet away from the Specialist, looking every inch smug and superior as she stared down her nose at the other woman.

Her smile fading slightly, Jiaying regarded May with loathing. “I know you never had a child of your own, Melinda. I’m sorry for that. But you can’t have my daughter. I gave birth to her, she’s _mine_. And blood is thicker than water.”

May laughed, and the gesture clearly took Jiaying by surprise. She eyed the ghost with perhaps even more revulsion than the spectre herself offered. “Please! That doesn’t make you a mother. You don’t know what that word means. Skye’s lucky S.H.I.E.L.D. took her from you; she’s the woman she is today because you never got to raise her, to poison her mind like you did your own. And newsflash… you’re dead.”

Jiaying shrugged, as if the fact didn’t bother her in the slightest. Hearing footsteps in the hall, May turned briefly to note Ward and Skye standing wide-eyed in the doorway as they watched the scene unfold. A pang of relief shot through her as she realised the young woman was unharmed. Ward held onto her protectively, and May took a moment to nod at him in approval. Skye might be an infamous figure out in the field now but, in that house, in that moment, both she and Grant were vulnerable. May on the other hand had a trick or two up her sleeve that she was just aching to share with the dead women.

“Perhaps you’d like to join me?” Jiaying grinned with murderous intent, noting with perhaps a shred of unease the smug smirk that tugged at May’s lips almost immediately in response. Melinda turned her hand and crooked a finger to beckon Jiaying closer, never one to shy away from a fight.

“Show me what you’ve got…”

Skye let out a choking sound of alarm as Jiaying blinked into being right in front of May’s nose, and one pale, long fingered hand closed around the agent’s throat. May’s back straightened and her eyes bulged just a little as Jiaying proceeded to raise her feet from the floor with her grip, but the Specialist made no move to pull away.

“Help her!” Skye demanded, whirling around to face Garrett, who was watching the scene unfold with a puzzled frown in place. Either Melinda May had a death wish, or Melinda May had a plan. If the latter were the case, John could only hope it was a damn good one. The smell of gas was beginning to become unbearable, and it wouldn’t be too much longer before the still breathing occupants of the house began to suffer the effects of it.

“Hey…” Garrett yelled, stepping forwards quickly. Jiaying’s eyes ticked to him, annoyance clear in her expression, but she made no move against him. However, it was her distraction that May appeared to have been banking on and, whilst Jiaying looked away, she fumbled in the pocket of her trousers for something. When she withdrew her hand, her fingers clutched at the small, glimmering Lock Coin, identical in every way to the one she had presented Skye with.

May raised her hand high above her head and, using the sharp edge of the coin, slashed it across Jiaying’s cheek. Letting out a cry of apparent pain mingled with surprise, Jiaying immediately let May’s body fall to the floor, and she retreated a few paces with her hand pressed over her cheek. When she pulled her fingers back, they were coated with an odd, black substance, and the wide gash that May had inflicted upon her was leaking the same. However, where the substitute blood was exposed to the air, it seemed to be peeling away from her skin and up into the atmosphere. May watched, fascinated, as droplets floated up to the ceiling, where they melted into the plaster in sporadic flashes of blue light.

Jiaying disappeared, allowing May time to dash out into the hall to join her friends. Mere moments later, the lights in the house began to flicker on and off, and Skye watched her breath leave her lips as a tell-tale mist.

“We need to get out, now,” Ward directed, rushing to open the front door but finding it unwilling to budge even against the considerable force he provided. May joined him and soon all the three agents were heaving their combined weight against the door with very little effect.

“John? You want to do the honours?” May arched an eyebrow, gesturing to the seemingly impenetrable exit. The stench of gas was almost dizzying, and she clamped a hand wrapped in the bottom of her sleeve over her mouth and nose. They needed to regroup and think of a way out of the house, but May had nothing to put down on the proverbial table.

“Wish I could,” Garrett sighed, his stare levelled at the three undead, murderous women, who stalked towards the group. Casting a fleeting glance towards the door, he licked his lips almost nervously before he attempted to offer up his most confident smirk; Ward noted the change in his demeanour with interest.

“When I holler, you three get out of here and keep running until you’ve cleared the block. Understand?”

All three agents nodded with uncertainty. Garrett appeared to take a steadying breath – if ghosts could do such a thing.

Casting a final glance at Ward, he sought out the younger man’s reluctant gaze, “This probably means nothing to you now, son, but I’m sorry. For all the crappy, awful, downright cruel shit that I did to you… _I’m sorry_. I know that cuts no ice, but for what it’s worth? If I could take it all back, I would. And not just because I’ve been draggin’ some big ol’ chains around for the last few years. You’re a good man, Ward, despite me. You’ve got a beautiful family… your wife’s a regular issue hottie and your kid’s pretty damn cute, I guess. Just… enjoy it, Grant. Don’t think about me. I’m not worth your time. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry… and that I’ve done what I can to make amends. Ask Phil about it one day, maybe?!”

Stunned, perhaps even a little sickened, Ward could only nod his head. The words Garrett had spoken to him washed over him without truly sinking in, and he found himself reaching backwards for Skye’s hand like a frightened child. John noted the gesture and, instead of the disgust Ward had expected to note, regret and sorrow bled across his features.

Garrett stepped forwards, extending his hand to May, who wordlessly reached out and dropped the Lock Coin into his palm. As soon as the object connected with his skin, John hissed. He had thought that all pain ended with death, but it appeared that he had been wrong on that matter as well.

“Which one of you lucky ladies wants to come sit on Uncle John’s knee first?” he drawled, wielding the coin above his head and managing a grin despite the fact that his skin had begun to melt away from his fingers as though it were being dissolved by acid.

Emily let out a roar, her mouth opening cavernously wide, and an unearthly wind picked up suddenly. Skye’s hair whipped around her face and ears, and she gritted her teeth as the cold breeze made her wrist ache increasingly harder. At her side, May stumbled slightly, the gas she had breathed in already beginning to take its toll on her body. Ward reached for the woman and used his free hand to keep her upright, still maintaining a tight grip on Skye’s waist with the other.

John threw back his head, a loud, raucous laugh escaping him, and then he steamed forward like a charging bull. Emily seemed surprised but not immediately threatened, and she allowed John to approach her without making a move to defend herself. Therefore, when John swung back his fist and punched her in the side of the head, the coin poking out from between his fingertips where it nestled, she let out a cry that belayed her outrage. The metal afflicted her in the same way it had Jiaying, and John wrenched the coin out from where it had embedded in the woman’s temple just as the wound began to spurt black liquid.

“What do you know,” John crooned, eyebrows waggling, “works on you too, sweetheart.”

Before Emily could react much beyond wrapping cold, bony fingers around his other wrist, John plunged his hand straight through her chest cavity, using the coin to ensure that he reached the central mass of where her heart would have been positioned, had she still been alive.

The black, oozing liquid that ran from the hole his fist created caused Garrett to reel back, and his upper lip curled in revulsion. He watched Emily’s eyes glow an eerie shade of blue, skin beginning to curl and peel as fragments fluttered from her cheek to the polished wooden floor.

Dragging his hand up, John slashed the coin higher and higher, until his clenched fist passed through the top of her head and she tumbled to the floor, screaming and writhing in agony. A pool of black gushed rather than ebbed out of her wounds, and her entire body seemed to begin to disintegrate. The process looked slow and painful, and from the doorway Skye winced and mourned again for the agony the woman was forced to endure. Emily Forbes hadn’t chosen any of what had befallen her or her spirit in the last week, and yet she was the one paying the highest price.

Finally, the phantom choked out a sound resembling a sob, reached a pale hand upwards, and disappeared into the ether. John blinked, and the spectre and her revolting entrails had vanished, leaving him with two other opponents yet to tackle.

Having witnessed the gruesome and apparently painful end of their counterpart, Jiaying and Raina backed up, the latter beginning to hold her hand up as though the gesture would be a legitimate defence.

“John… we were friends, remember? I helped you… I was there for you…” Raina attempted, noting the expression on his face with trepidation; it was an expression she recognised as the one that had often preceded Ward receiving another of his brain-washing beatings, or Garrett working out his frustrations on the face of a young, nameless Hydra lackey.

The three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents started in surprise as the front door blew open on a gust of wind, and yet they wasted very little time in running out of the building. Nobody paused to shoot their former enemy a parting nod of thanks, but he couldn’t say that he blamed them for that. Some things, after all, were just unforgivable.

“We were never friends, flowers,” Garrett replied, his eyes ticking to the door for a just a moment as he watched Ward’s retreating back. One arm was wrapped around Skye’s waist, holding her to his side, whilst the fingers of his other hand were curled around the Cavalry’s wrist, as he worked to ensure her safety too. It seemed like the kid had finally found himself a family, albeit in the last place John would ever have expected.

“I didn’t have friends,” Garrett concluded, something almost sad and wistful about his tone as he added, “just useful acquaintances and some folks I never got around to killing.”

Eyes widening, Raina took another step backwards, realising she had met yet another situation that she could not possibly talk her way out of. She had been a master of that in life, until she had met Jiaying.

“You don’t have the guts,” Jiaying flung out, her head raised so high that the point of her chin jutted out in front of her, “I’ll deal with you and then I intend to take my daughter home. I don’t need Emily for that.”

John arched an eyebrow as he challenged, “You want Skye, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to go through me.”

Jiaying took a step forward, yet she stayed deliberately just out of his reach, “What do you care? My daughter is my business.”

Mouth pulled into a tight line, Garrett shrugged, releasing a grunt through clenched teeth. “Here’s the thing; I like Skye, she’s a good kid, and of course I owe her husband… I mean, I owe Ward _big_. I like to think I’ve played my part in helping him get his life back… the life I pretty much single-handedly ruined… but see, Skye’s the centre of all that. He loves her, she loves him, and we’ve all hurt them enough, don’t you think? They deserve this. They deserve better than the shit we heaped on them. Their _kid_ deserves better. So here I am, about to dispatch you two harpies back to wherever the hell that crazy college guy summoned you from.”

Jiaying’s eyes flashed angrily and, unlike Raina, she again advanced towards the threat, determined to be the one to neutralise it. She would not waste this second chance she had been given to reunite with her only child.

“I guess that’s the way it’s going to be then,” Garrett declared, bracing himself as Jiaying let out a screech that resembled nothing on Earth he had ever heard before, and then flung herself towards him.

However, she had made it barely three steps when she halted, her form twitching and blinking, before becoming consumed in phantom flames. John frowned, perplexed, and reached out a hand towards the fire, which he reasoned could not have been real. With the gas pouring into the upstairs of the house, the whole place surely would have ignited in a fireball. John stretched out ghostly fingertips, finding his suspicions confirmed when he discovered he could feel no heat radiating from the flames.

“No!” Raina screamed, her head shaking desperately from side to side as she too was devoured by a wave of fire that swept up her body after igniting beneath her feet, seemingly without cause. The two women flailed and shrieked side by side for some time, their howls of rage no doubt carrying out of the open door and into the garden.

Whatever it was, Garrett waited patiently for the same fate to befall him, knowing that he truly deserved no less. However, nothing happened, and he continued to watch as the flames suddenly vanished, along with the two dead Inhumans they had ravaged. All that remained were wisps of smoke that drifted towards the ceiling.

Garrett blew out a shaky breath – more out of habit than necessity – then set off towards the basement, where he intended to locate the boiler and see about switching off the gas. The Ward family had endured enough for one night without their new home exploding in an inferno.

John kept the Lock coin clutched between his ruined fingers, just in case, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t need it anymore.

 

**x-x-x**

The fire hissed and crackled, engulfing the wooden board and artefacts that had been hurriedly tossed into the flames by desperate hands.

Standing in front of the fireplace, Lincoln watched the items burn, hoping with each lick and hiss of the fire that Mr. Forbes’ sins would be reversed. The man in question stood at his side, hands cuffed behind his back. The inhuman was careful to keep a firm hold on him, not trusting his surrender for even a second. Tears tripped the college professor’s cheeks and he bent his head to protect his grief from Lincoln’s view, even though salt water plopped onto the wooden floor beneath their feet.

“She was cheating on me…” Mr. Forbes said quietly.

Lincoln frowned, glancing sideways at the man, who added in barely more than a whisper, “With her partner. What a cliché, huh?”

“I’m… sorry,” Lincoln replied, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation seemed to be taking. To an extent, he _was_ sorry for the man, and yet he couldn’t just dismiss everything Elliot Forbes had done – the lives he had tried to ruin.

Trying to wipe his tears on his shoulder, the man blew out a shaky breath. “You married?”

“No,” Lincoln replied, managing to muster a mildly sympathetic smile as he explained, “she uh… she married someone else. But she’s happy - they’re happy - and… we’re friends now.”

Mr. Forbes huffed out a brief laugh and both men kept their eyes locked on the flames.

“Tough break.”

Lincoln shrugged and shook his head, “Well I realised that what I thought I felt for her didn’t come close to how the other guy felt about her, or how she felt about him. She’s been through a lot, she deserves to be happy, and she’s a good person… the woman you tried to kill.”

There was no accusation or aggression in his tone, but Lincoln’s words appeared to have their desired effect, and the devastated husband hung his head as his tears flowed harder; this time perhaps too out of guilt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, I… I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know they’d… I lost control.”

Lincoln paused to reply when suddenly Coulson came striding back in, a smile on his face that assured the Inhuman that everything had somehow worked out.

“That was Ward, everyone’s okay. They’re on a quin jet back to base. Turns out they had an… unexpected ally,” he smiled in faint disbelief, shaking his head to gather his thoughts as he took hold of the handcuffs behind the man’s back. “Mr. Forbes… you need to come with us.”

Elliot Forbes nodded his head, all fight and fury gone, in the wake of what he had learned. He allowed himself to be led from the home he had shared with his wife, the woman he had loved in his own way, but for whom he had apparently never been enough. He would never know why now, but perhaps that was to be his biggest punishment.

On the threshold of the doorway, with Coulson’s hand wrapped around his bound wrists, Mr. Forbes paused only once to shoot a final glance at the wedding photo still lying in the middle of the floor.

She really had looked beautiful that day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing.

**“I’ve Grown Familiar with Villains that Live in my Head”**

**Epilogue**

**x-x-x**

The quin jet had barely touched down in the hangar, allowing Skye, Ward and May time to disembark, before they had found themselves surrounded by the rest of the team. Coulson had been at the head of the group, nothing but concern mapped out in the lines of his face.

Ward had barely let go of Skye for the entire flight, settling her on his knee even as he co-piloted the jet with May, who had really done the majority of the work on the way home. Skye had been quiet, uncharacteristically so, and Grant was relieved to see her smile finally when she saw the sea of worried faces assembled to greet them. The only ones missing had been Jemma and Vivi, who Fitz had promised were safe and well back in the quarters, where the child had finally fallen asleep after one too many Curious George stories, courtesy of her favourite uncle.

Lincoln had insisted that the three be checked over back in the med. bay, much to May’s intense annoyance and Ward’s relief. He had assessed Skye’s injury himself back on the jet and was in agreement that her wrist was more than likely broken. It seemed that the Ward women were not having the best of luck in that department of late.

Just as Vivian had been, Skye was unimpressed with the strapping and support Lincoln insisted on putting on her, although reluctantly agreed that it was somewhat better than a cumbersome plaster cast. Luckily for the Inhuman in question, her x-rays had revealed a small hairline fracture, which was already beginning to heal up during the half hour period between the first x-ray Lincoln had taken and the last.

The med. bay was deserted save for Ward, Lincoln, and the unwilling patient, who huffed out a sigh as her doctor finished wrapping the Velcro fastenings around the wrist support.

“Alright… given your accelerated healing, I figure you’ll be out of the field for a week, maybe two at most.” At Skye’s irritable eye roll, Lincoln added with a patient smile, “Which is better than the six to eight weeks a normal person would be laid up for.”

“I guess,” she agreed, smiling as she realised that, all in all, she had escaped the whole terrifying incident with relatively minor injuries. The three of them had managed to get out alive, and that was all that mattered.

Ward remained at her side, her uninjured hand clasped in his, whilst he held her gently around the waist with his other arm. He seemed loathed not to be touching her - to have that reassurance that she was okay. He leaned close to press a kiss to her temple, and Skye turned to face him with a smile, letting her weary head fall against his shoulder.

Lincoln, who had been about to hand over a bottle of pain killers, suddenly stilled and stared down contemplatively at the ground. “I um… I owe you an apology, Skye. For everything I said before, I’m sorry. I had no idea… I mean, I didn’t even believe in ghosts until tonight.”

“I’m not sure I did until a few days ago,” Skye admitted, running her gaze up and down Lincoln’s form. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and he kept his head bowed slightly, his remorse more than evident in his general demeanour.

“I thought I knew what was going on and instead of talking to you about it, I went behind your back,” he continued, frowning as he added, “I see now that that was a pretty shitty move.”

“Really was,” Skye agreed, but the small smile she flashed him was mostly good natured.

“I just… I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship,” he lamented, eyes downcast to the floor, making him look so much like a child that had been scolded for having his hand in the cookie jar that Skye began to giggle.

“Shut up, idiot,” she declared, momentarily freeing her good hand from Ward’s grip in order to slap Lincoln’s arm. She rolled her eyes, obviously more amused now than annoyed, although Lincoln’s perceived betrayal had stung at the time.

“I forgive you,” she promised, her words immediately coaxing a relieved sigh from Lincoln’s lips, “and although I was pissed at you, I know you only acted that way because you were concerned about a friend. It’s good to know that I can rely on you to call it as you see it, even if I may not like what you see.”

“But in this case, I was wrong…” Lincoln began, pausing when Skye held up a hand to demand silence.

“You were,” she conceded, nodding somewhat sadly as she added, “but that doesn’t mean you will be next time, or the time after that.”

“Let’s just agree there won’t be a next time,” Ward interjected, picking up Skye’s jacket and shirt from the nearby chair. He had helped her out of them in order to change into a hospital gown, much to her immense displeasure, but the x-rays and subsequent splinting had necessitated a change of clothing.

“I mean he should still trust his instincts, not that I plan on going cuckoo for Coco Puffs anytime soon,” she stated, a look of amusement crossing her features as she regarded her husband.

Lincoln nodded in agreement, handing over the pill bottle to Skye, his eyes widened in an attempt to sway her to accept the medication. “Take one or two up to three times a day. Ice packs for no longer than 10 minutes at a time, and plenty of rest.”

“Yes, doc,” Skye smiled indulgently, hopping down from the gurney and turning her head to try to look at the back of her gown, where she was sure the back of her bra was showing. Thankfully, she’d managed to retain her dignity and keep her jeans on, but all she really wanted was a warm shower, comfortable pyjamas, and her husband’s accommodating chest as a pillow.

“Alright, well… take it easy. I would say ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’ but…” he narrowed his eyes and winced for comic effect.

Skye laughed and offered him a wholly unrepentant shrug. The smile that passed between them let him know that she held no ill will towards him.

“Grant, will you go get Vivi?” Skye looked up at him imploringly, feeling guilty for the little girl’s tears that had kept her up way past her bedtime, and exhausted her babysitters in their attempt to console her.

“You sure you feel up to…” he began, immediately silenced by the glower Skye shot at him.

“Finish that sentence and you’re bunking with Lincoln tonight,” she vowed, arching a brow as the doctor let out a hearty chuckle. He managed to shoot Ward a look of sympathy as the other man passed by on his way out of the medical room.

“She’ll be back to normal in no time at all,” Lincoln whispered to Grant, his smirk slightly mocking, although Ward took the teasing good naturedly, as it was intended.

It took him somewhat longer than he had intended to retrieve Vivian from FitzSimmons’ room, since he arrived there to find the little girl entangled between the two scientists in the middle of their bed. Around them lay all the evidence of their battle to get her back to sleep, which included a small army of stuffed toys, an ipod, and half a bookcase worth of bedtime stories. Ward took just a moment to snap a photo of the scene for Skye’s benefit, before he set about extracting Vivi from the situation without awakening Fitz or Simmons. No doubt they had more than earned the rest.

By the time he returned to their own quarter, Vivi clutched to his chest, still snoring, Skye had managed to change into her pyjamas and make herself somewhat comfortable in their own bed. She seemed to have claimed the majority of the pillows to support her arm but Ward would certainly let that misdemeanour slide given the circumstances. The bright smile that illuminated Skye’s features upon seeing their daughter made Grant’s heart skip a beat, and he quickly laid the child down on the bed next to her mother, who he could see was visibly aching just to touch her.

Leaning down, Skye brushed a kiss against Vivian’s forehead, her smile never fading.

“I didn’t realise it was possible to miss someone so much in only a few hours until she came along,” Skye murmured, stroking her fingertip along the curve of Vivian’s cheek. She could see in the dim bedroom light that the little girl’s lips were sticky and her mouth was ringed by brown smudges, which she quickly assumed to be hot chocolate. Simmons had a thing for bribery, but Skye had to admit that it often worked in Vivian’s case. She supposed it would get harder as Vivi grew older, and cooperation could no longer be bought with Barbie dolls, Cartoon Network, and slices of cake.

Ward smiled as he watched her enclose their daughter in her arms, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding, thrilled to have his little family safe and together again. He’d never wanted to be a father. It just wasn’t something he thought would ever be on the cards for him. The life of a Specialist didn’t often allow for a happy family life and, besides that, he had always regarded himself as damaged goods. What child would deserve him as a parent?!

But with Skye he’d found himself secretly thinking about those things, and then Vivian had made her slightly unanticipated arrival into their lives and entirely owned him from the second he’d felt her kick beneath his palm.

“My poor baby,” Skye whispered, noting the reddened skin around the little girl’s eyes, and her long, dark lashes that were damp and tangled - tell-tale signs that she’d been crying. That explained the hot chocolate; Simmons practically crumbled at the first sign of tears.

Ward quickly stripped down into pyjama pants, electing to scoot up behind his wife, who had wriggled into the centre of the bed and had her arm securely around their daughter.

Kissing Vivi’s dark curls first, Skye then smiled as the child instinctively cuddled closer until her head rested on her mother’s chest. A sense of sleepy realisation seemed to slowly awaken her, and soon her eyelids flickered open.

“Mommy?” she managed, her eyes refusing to cooperate. She blinked wearily, unable to focus, as sleep threatened to creep back up on her at any moment.

“Go back to sleep, baby. Mommy and Daddy are right here,” Skye soothed, pulling up the covers and laying her head down onto the pillow as she felt Grant’s arm slide around her waist. His hand settled gently on her stomach as he arched around her.

Vivian puffed out a sigh and then she was silent again, her lips parted as she slept.

“Thank you for coming for me tonight,” Skye said quietly, deliberately closing her own eyes so that she didn’t have to meet Ward’s gaze. She suspected that he would be angry with her for not telling him about the situation with the spirits, and also for leaving the base without informing anyone of where she was going. However, those were arguments she was just too tired to have right then and there. Sensing as much, Ward kissed Skye’s bare shoulder where the strap of her pyjama top had ridden down.

“You know you never have to thank me for that,” he replied, carefully readjusting the errant strap on Skye’s behalf, since her one good arm was tangled around their daughter, “I will always come for you, period.”

Turning her head, she sought out his lips in an affectionate kiss, regarding him in the darkness with a mischievous smirk that he could hear in her voice. “You know, I could make a really dirty joke about that…”

His fingertips slid under the hem of her tank top and lightly caressed her warm skin, and Skye grinned as she felt his puff of laughter drift across her neck.

“Well _that_ ’s also true,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss against her neck as he pulled her closer and curled around her body in the same way she embraced their sleeping daughter.

Silence suddenly fell upon them, and Skye was almost at the precipice of sleep when Ward eventually spoke out into the darkness.

“What do you think John meant, when he said he’d helped me out before?” Ward pondered, and Skye could practically hear him deliberating over the spectre’s parting words.

She moved her injured hand down gingerly, pleased to find the stiffness and pain was easing off – no doubt as a result of her Inhuman DNA – and she slid her hand over the top of his, brushing her thumb over his wrist where his arm encircled her hip.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can ask D.C.?” Squeezing his fingers to capture his attention and also in an attempt to halt the cogs turning in his brain, Skye added, “Whatever it is, Grant, it can’t be anything bad that he did, right? Life is… pretty damn good for us.”

She felt Ward sigh against her, his mind likely troubled by memories and emotions he’d long ago hoped to banish, but which had been conjured again by Garrett’s ghost.

“It’s everything I ever wanted,” he said quietly, “but, it’s Garrett.”

Skye swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat as she found herself once again dwelling on the life Ward had endured as a kid under Garrett’s proverbial wing. No matter how wonderful the present was, the mental scars he had accumulated from those years could never be erased, and that was something they both needed to come to terms with. However, that evening, as she had faced down otherworldly forces that wanted her dead, it had been John Garrett that had come to her defence first and foremost. Whilst she could never entertain forgiving the man for what he had done to Grant, and to them all with his betrayal of S.H.I.E.L.D., she couldn’t deny the fact that his interference had probably saved her life. Perhaps death had changed Garrett, or perhaps whatever fate had awaited him beyond Earth had been the catalyst that had prompted some sort of spiritual growth. Skye supposed she may never know.

“He helped me tonight, Grant,” she said softly, finally craning her neck and consenting to meet her husband’s gaze, which was somewhat watery even in the darkness. “I know that doesn’t wipe away everything he did, but… I don’t think he wants to hurt us anymore.”

Ward was silent, hugging her a little tighter as he kissed her shoulder, letting his lips linger for a while on her skin. He was trying hard to dismiss the ‘could have beens’; the knowledge that things could have gone so very differently that evening. He needed Skye like he needed air in his lungs, and even the fleeting thought of being without her was utterly terrifying.

“I love you.”

Craning her neck, Skye captured Grant’s lips in a tender kiss.

“I love you too. And I will always hate him for what he did to you. Thinking about it makes me wanna throw up, but… tonight he wasn’t the enemy. So, whatever it is Coulson may or may not know, it’s nothing that can hurt you. _He_ can’t hurt you anymore, Ward.”

She kissed him once again before laying her head back down and snuggling into his arms. Smiling sleepily, Skye let her eyes flutter closed, lulled by the feeling of safety his embrace provided, and the weight of their daughter cuddled against her.

“Now, go to sleep,” she ordered, yawning obnoxiously, which made Ward chuckle.

Realising his wife was more than likely right, Grant let his own head rest next to hers on the pillow. Before he closed his eyes, he made sure to silently thank whoever or whatever higher power there may be for the life he had.

 

**x-x-x**

It was several days later when Coulson finally got around to catching up with Grant. He had deliberately allowed Skye and Ward their peace, knowing that Skye in particular had a lot to come to terms with. Whilst Coulson had his own fair share of experience when it came to spirits, those that had visited him had been intent upon helping him - redirecting him on the path he walked - rather than hurting him, the way Jiaying, Raina and even Emily had coveted hurting Skye. Whilst her physical wounds had been quick to heal, Coulson knew that the psychological ones would require more care and attention from all those she loved.

There was no one more adept at healing Skye than Grant, thus Coulson resolved to leave them to it for a while, whilst also ensuring that the rest of the team kept their distance.  No matter how well-meaning their offers of babysitting or shoulders to cry on were, Coulson knew better than most that what Skye and Ward really needed was time together; time to re-evaluate both what they wanted and what they needed in light of everything that had transpired over the last week.

However, Coulson knew from speaking with May that Grant had questions for him, mostly thanks to the cryptic utterings of Garrett’s ghost, and so on a quiet Thursday afternoon he resolved not to put off the inevitable any longer. He found Ward in the kitchen, making enough peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to feed a large task force, and he immediately knew that that must have been what Skye and Vivi were demanding. Without a word, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, picked up a knife, and began to spread peanut butter onto the waiting slices of bread.

Ward’s gaze ticked sideways and he offered Coulson a small smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by the director. Still, he remained silent, hoping that Grant would be able to draw upon his inner reserves of strength in order to ask the questions he desired answers to. A handful of minutes passed by uninterrupted before Phil realised that that was unlikely to happen.

“Crusts on or off?” Coulson finally inquired, pausing only to await Ward’s instruction.

“On for Vivi, off for Skye,” Ward relayed with a brief snort of amusement.

Coulson chuckled, shaking his head at the absurdity, “You know, that really should be the other way around, but… okay.”

Placing a piece of bread atop a jelly and peanut butter slathered slice, Ward proceeded to cut it into four small quarters before arranging it on the pink plastic plate that belonged to his daughter.

“Skye knows what she likes,” he said absently, picking a handful of grapes out of a colander and beginning to slice them widthways, like the parenting magazines he'd poured over had instructed.

Finally pausing in his task, he laid the knife down onto the counter and blew out a breath. Seeing Grant Ward nervous was not something Coulson was accustomed to and so he too paused, placing the jelly covered knife down as he tried to gather his own thoughts.

“Garrett… he uh… he told me he’d ‘helped’ me before… he said you knew about it,” it was more of a statement than a question, but Coulson nodded before gesturing towards the kitchen table.

“I feel like we should be sitting down to have this conversation.” He smiled warmly, hoping to dispel Ward’s nerves somewhat. The Specialist followed without a word, sitting down at the table and leaning back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest in a pose that some would call defensive.

“I guess I have a hard time believing that the guy who pretty much destroyed my life could ever do anything other than cause me pain,” Ward said gruffly, trying but somehow failing to slip the Specialist mask in place. He wasn’t as skilled in that area as he used to be, Coulson was relieved to note. Fatherhood and years of therapy seemed to have stripped him of that talent, which could only truly be a good thing. Nothing positive ever came of shutting off one’s emotions, to Phil’s mind at least.

“I can’t blame you for thinking that way,” replied Coulson, finding that he was just a little too nervous himself to fully relax back in his chair.

With an almost hesitant and certainly shaky smile quirking his lips, Coulson began to talk; about years gone by, toxic grudges, robotic arms, and ghosts that hadn’t wanted to let him be until they had been certain that his soul had been saved.

For his part, Ward listened, without speaking or so much as twitching a muscle – his body perfectly still save for the faintest rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He stayed that way for almost ten minutes after Coulson had finished talking, which didn’t seem to surprise the director much at all. He only waited patiently for Ward to recover from his tale, which he had to admit was about as easy to swallow as a whole sixteen-ounce steak.

Smiling nervously, Coulson shrugged, “I… I know it sounds crazy. Hard to believe, huh?”

Ward remained quiet, staring down at the table. On closer inspection, Coulson noted his gaze was actually affixed on the silver band on his left hand.

His mind raced through the events of this apparent alternate timeline - all of the destruction and death, the wasted opportunities, and the second chances that never came. It sounded like a world where he had become everything Garrett had trained him to be, but this time to the point of self-destruction, never knowing love or kindness from another living soul. More heartbreakingly for Ward, it was a world in which Skye’s life would be cut short, and his daughter was never fated to exist.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to meet the older man’s gaze. “I… I’m not that guy.”

Ward looked up at him desperately, feeling something akin to panic beginning to constrict his chest, making it hard for him to suck in air.

Coulson nodded in agreement and offered a weak smile. He understood how hard it must be for Grant to hear these things. He was disgusted himself when he thought back on the man he had become, and on the things he’d been told he was destined to do with such cold and callous detachment as SHIELD Director.

“I know, Grant. Neither am I.”

Ward blinked quickly, as though an abundance of light was hitting him full force in the face and he was finding it hard to focus on anything. He sucked in a few deep breaths that did nothing to calm him, and then he turned his attention back to Coulson, who was peering at him across the table with a distinct air of unease, as though he expected Ward to break at any moment.

“I can’t… I mean… it’s… this is a lot to process,” he finished, scrubbing one palm over his face. He suddenly felt weary, as though he hadn’t slept in days, such was the weight of all that he had learned.

“If you want to tell Skye – talk this over with her – then that’s okay,” Coulson began, falling silent again as Grant screwed up his features and shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now,” he offered, fingers clenching his hands into fists as he elaborated, “after everything that’s happened… her mom being one of the ghosts Forbes called… she’s just been having a hard time dealing with the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘maybes’.”

“Understandable,” Coulson admonished with a wince. His own mother, Vivian, had been a strong and unwavering maternal presence in his life up until her death, and Coulson was almost relieved to admit that he could never truly comprehend what it must be like to have been born of a woman like Jiaying; a woman seemingly without conscience, or care for her only daughter. Skye had spent twenty something years mourning the childhood she had been denied with her birth parents, only to eventually discover that it was the cruel life in the care system she had loathed that had saved her from being raised by a monster. He couldn’t begin to comprehend how that would affect a person, especially since Skye herself had become a parent, and now knew what it was to bring life into the world. He supposed that that knowledge - that overpowering love she felt for Vivi - could only make her mother’s rejection of her all the more painful.

“You know, if I hadn’t seen what I’ve seen over the last few days, I wouldn’t believe you,” Ward said, a chuckle spilling from his lips as he clambered to his feet and moved to return to the abandoned sandwiches. Skye and Vivian would almost certainly be wondering where he had gotten to by now, and it was getting harder and harder to force his wife to rest as she recovered. He was amazed that she hadn’t come to track him down already, and so he reached for the knife again to resume his task.

Coulson also returned to his station at the kitchen counter and the two began to finish up the lunch plates in silence that seemed somehow easier now.

Watching as Ward poured milk into a Minnie Mouse sippy cup, and being struck by the inherently paternal gesture, Coulson reached out and placed a hand almost gingerly on the other man’s shoulder.

“The way I think about it, is that… who we were? That’s not how it was supposed to turn out. Something went wrong, one decision I made… it screwed everything up. But that’s not how this world was meant to be. You and Skye? You’re destined to be together and little Vivian is supposed to be here. I… I vaguely remember what life was like… before, and it’s all so different now, Grant. There’s happiness here - real happiness - and… well… love. All of us together? We’re a family, not just a team. And you know what? I like to think that makes us better at what we do, because we’re all fighting for each other.”

Ward nodded, smiling as he lifted his daughter’s plate, filled with sandwiches, grapes, and a few carrot sticks he knew he’d have to bribe her to eat. Coulson eyed the plate with a contented sigh - he couldn’t imagine the base without the child around; without stuffed toys down the side of the common room couch, or her juice boxes in the refrigerator, or how he frequently held meetings with a toddler interrupting from his lap.

Loud chattering from the hall caught both of their attentions, and when Ward glanced up he saw Skye walking through the doorway, being dragged somewhat forcibly by the child who had hold of her hand.

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Vivian complained, letting go of her mother’s hand to clamber up onto a chair, where she sat eying the plate in his hand with obvious intent.

Noting the odd expression on Grant’s face, Skye walked over to her husband and slid her arms around his waist. She glanced between the two men as though suspicious of what had transpired before her arrival. Coulson retrieved the lunch plate from Ward and walked over to the table to both feed the flagging child and also to allow the couple some privacy.

“Everything okay?” Skye asked, frowning at the slightly faraway and troubled expression that Grant was struggling to banish from his face.

“Look, Grant, if this is what we talked about this morning, we don’t have to stay living on the base if you don’t want to. I just… I just think it’s nice that Vivi’s got this big extended family around her, and… after everything that happened in our house I don’t know if I want to live there, at least not right now… I…”

Grant didn’t say a word. Instead, he moved forward and pressed a single finger to Skye’s lips to buy her silence. For once, Skye obediently fell quiet and allowed the normally infuriating gesture to slide; she could see the look in Ward’s eyes, a curious combination of adoration and relief at seeing her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had brought it all on.

“I couldn’t care less where I live, as long as it’s with you,” he said with unusual firmness, wasting no time in wrapping Skye up in an embrace. He was mindful of her still healing arm, but he tugged her with insistence into his chest. She laid her cheek against his shoulder, allowing herself a small sigh as he rubbed circles on her back.

“I feel like I’ve ruined it for us all somehow,” she admitted, biting her lip but not drawing away from Ward, who she could sense shaking his head vehemently above her.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” he replied, “I understand. As much as I love the house… it’s just a house. We can find another when the time is right and we shouldn’t have too much trouble selling it after the renovations. We may even turn over a profit.”

“Really?” Skye eased back in his arms, trying to search his expression but finding only adoration lighting up his eyes.

“Really,” Ward affirmed, lifting his other hand from around her waist to cup her cheek, “I’d do anything for you, Skye.”

She placed her hand over his and leaned into his touch, holding his gaze until she felt a familiar dip in her stomach. Sometimes, looking up into Grant Ward’s eyes was like riding a rollercoaster.

A pang of desire forced Skye to lean up and press her lips to his in an urgent kiss that Grant readily reciprocated.

“You’re a good man, Grant Ward.” She beamed up at him as he pulled her closer and then a moment later kissed her soundly.

“I am now,” he countered as he bumped the tip of his nose against hers, “at least I hope I am. I’m trying to be… for you and Vivian.”

The story Coulson had told him was all too fresh in his mind, and Ward knew the revelation was one that was likely to haunt him for the rest of his days. He’d never stop being thankful for the life he had. Even before the director’s revelation, he had known how lucky he was to have had the support and love to turn his life around. But now, in light of the knowledge that things perhaps once had turned out so very differently, it brought added emphasis to just how fortunate he was.

Skye smiled and directed his gaze over to their daughter, who, upon feeling their stares, turned to reward them with a grin that exhibited her mouthful of carrot.

“Shut up, dummy. In case you missed the memo, Grant, you’re her hero.”

“Not sure I’m worthy of that title yet, but… maybe one day,” he replied, his responding smile wide and warm as he peered down at Skye, who leaned closer into his side.

“Sorry to interrupt over here,” Coulson began, approaching the couple almost hesitantly as though he was afraid he was interrupting something of great importance. “Vivi tells me that you’re not moving anymore. Is that… is that true?”

Skye swallowed hard and averted her gaze to the countertop, whilst Ward squeezed the top of her arm to assure her that her guilt was not necessary; in truth, he hadn’t been at all surprised when Skye had revealed that morning that she was suddenly reluctant to leave the Playground in favour of a house that now held only bad memories. He could understand her change of heart, given that the house they had hoped to turn into a home held only negative connotations, thanks to Mr. Forbes’ meddling. Skye’s happiness would always take precedence to him over money or property, and so he had promised her faithfully that they would sell the house and perhaps try again in future when she felt ready. 

“After what happened there… my mom, and… all that crazy stuff. It just wouldn’t feel like home,” Skye answered, her disappointment in herself evident as she turned around to lean against Ward’s chest. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheek.

Coulson ventured a tentative smile as he probed, “But… here does?”

The couple exchanged brief looks before they each began to nod, visibly delighting Coulson.  

“Yeah. I guess it does,” Skye said, adding, “and it’s kind of nice that Vivi has all of these people here to love her and to watch out for her. You guys are her family too.”

Casting a glance back at the toddler, Coulson couldn’t help the indulgent smile that escaped him.

“Well, I think I can speak for the whole team when I say she’s our favourite newbie. I mean she eats a whole lot, but she’s a pretty cute kid.”

Skye grinned, easily deciphering the paternal expression that briefly graced the director’s features. There wasn’t a grandfather in existence more doting than him, and the feeling was more than mutual from the youngest Ward.

Rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully, Coulson blew out a slow breath.

“I might have a solution? I mean, it might be something you guys are interested in. I know things are cramped in your quarters, and I…uh… I know you’d like your own space as a family. There were plans drawn up and approved to build a director’s residence here as part of the base. Nothing fancy, just normal S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel quarters. But it’d have three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, family room… Space enough for you three and… anybody else short of stature who comes along in the future…”

Skye smirked at the almost offhand reference. She glanced up to catch Grant’s gaze, finding that he too was smiling now. When they had agreed that morning to remain on base, they had decided that space for another child would likely be severely limited. In consequence, any plans to expand their family would need to be temporarily put on hold, which was perhaps what had disappointed them both the most.

“If you want it, it’s yours.” Coulson looked between them, unsure if he had perhaps overstepped his boundaries.

“D.C., we can’t let you do that,” Skye said, shaking her head, although the longing in her eyes was evident to both Grant and Coulson. “You’ve already broken so many rules for us, we couldn’t ask you to…”

“You’re not asking,” Coulson interjected, a frown taking the place of his smile. “I’m offering, and there’s a difference.”

“Aren’t there like… rules… about… you know, playing favourites with your agents?” Skye queried, lowering her voice as though she was afraid of being overheard, which had Grant almost snorting in amusement. There wasn’t an agent left in S.H.I.E.L.D. who wasn’t more than aware that Skye Johnson was Director Coulson’s ‘favourite’ – some may say ‘teacher’s pet’ - whilst those in the know referred to her as a surrogate daughter. He had never had the chance to start a family of his own, given the fact he had let one too many opportunities for love pass him by, but since he had welcomed Skye onto his plane and into his heart by extension, he had realised that blood actually didn’t matter one bit; family was defined by so much more than DNA, and in Skye he had found something he had been searching for for so long.

“Never stopped Fury,” countered Coulson, grinning as he found a certain red headed Russian immediately springing to mind. “It’s gonna take a couple of months to get it all set up. You can decorate it however you want. It’s still down the hall from everyone else, but it’d be like your own little bubble away from everything.”

Ward could practically feel the excitement rolling off Skye in waves, and he grazed his lips against her temple before he reached out to extend a hand towards Coulson. Skye looked back at him and grinned, waiting until Ward and the director had shaken hands before she launched herself at the older man in an exuberant hug.

“Thank you,” Ward said gratefully, laughing as Coulson looked at him above Skye’s shoulder. He had almost staggered back at the force of her hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Skye enthused, planting hurried kisses on Coulson’s cheek. She glanced down suddenly at the feel of tiny arms encircling her leg, only to discover Vivian peering up at her with a quizzical smile on her face.

Skye touched the crown of the little girl’s head with her free hand, knowing that her daughter had found her mother’s excitement infectious, regardless of the fact she likely had no idea what the adults were discussing.

“I’ll iron out the details then,” Coulson declared, stepping back and allowing himself a moment to bask in the affection Skye had so readily directed at him. It was still strange to a degree to see how much Skye had grown to care for him, and he knew that he owed that in no small part to their altered timeline. Originally, things had been destined to turn out so differently, creating a world that Coulson was certain he could never have been content to live in. Shooting the couple a final smile, the director hurried from the room, eager to set the wheels of his plan in motion, and perhaps to salvage the tail end of what had been a monumentally strange and unpleasant week.

Skye shot a glance at Ward, who was busy encouraging Vivi to finish up the rest of the carrot sticks on her plate, lest he be forced to hold her chocolate chip cookie to ransom. The little girl didn’t seem at all pleased with the ultimatum, which had prompted a rather sulky pout and a narrow-eyed glare that reminded Skye so much of herself that she almost laughed.

She took a breath, and just watched her husband and daughter – her world, to all intents and purposes. There had been a while, back in the thick of all the drama that the death of Emily Forbes had brought with it, that Skye had feared she wasn’t strong enough to withstand the assault of the spirits; that perhaps she might bend to Jiaying’s will in the throes of her despair, fall prey to Raina’s cruel taunting, or perhaps even become a victim of Emily’s vengeful ghost. Yet Skye had discovered reserves of strength she hadn’t known she possessed, and she could only expect that the source of such was her unwavering love for her family, and her reluctance to be torn away from them.

In fact, it had been proven to Skye now that she was capable of being scarier than any one of her demons, no matter how loud they howled or how insistently they clawed at her. The knowledge was somewhat liberating, especially for a woman who had spent a good portion of her life afraid of one thing or another.

In the wake of everything, Skye may have lost a potential home, but she still had her sanity and the love of the people most important to her. The spirits had tried to strip everything away from her and yet they had failed, largely due to her own resolve and determination. The realisation only brought another, wider smile to Skye’s face.

It was her life, and she was in control.

 


End file.
